Thank-you notes

I've never been good with Thank-You notes. To me, any gift, any act of kindness, anything of that sort creates a debt of gratitude that endures forever. Society is stitched together with these little debts. It almost seems like a Thank-You note is an attempt to pay that debt with a piece of paper, to balance things out by being able to say "Well, I said Thank You, in writing. What more do you want?"

But a lot of people don't see it that way. To them, Thank-You notes are a physical acknowledgement of the deed that has been done or gift that has been received. Without one, it seems that the recipient is unappreciative. So they have become expected.

One thing they drilled into us at the Career Link classes is to send Thank-You notes as a follow-up to any interview.

Now, to me that seems...odd. Weird. But sources refer to this as a "professional courtesy." If that is what society expects, that is what society expects. The Thank-You note after the interview isn't just intended as a nicety; it's also a second chance to make contact with the interviewers, who otherwise might start to forget details about you. It keeps you from becoming just another interview.

I bought a box of Thank-You notes a few weeks ago. They're on lovely 80-lb. Ivory cardstock with the words "Thank You" embossed in a masculine sans-serif typeface. (No frilly script for me, baby!) But I don't think I'll be using them.

Oh, I still plan on sending Thank-You notes, but I think I'll be creating custom ones. Ones featuring original artwork by me. I'll have the full citation for each painting (which, I just realized, I'll have to get from my blog, since the original paintings are over at my other house right now!) as well as a brief, personalized message and the full identifying information from my résumé. There were two interviewers today, so they will each get a different image. Even if they decide not to hire me, the recipients will get original works of art, suitable for framing, fun-tacking, or taping to the wall. And maybe they'll remember who I am.

Or not. But in that case, what have I lost?