Come in; sit down. We’ve got twelve questions to ask you and then we’ll give your answers points. The candidate with the most points gets the job. OK?
It’s another job interview. But this one is a bit of a difference. We rattle through the questions quickly and I am through the door and on my way home before I know it. I’ve not had to explain why I left my last job or what I did or any of the stuff that I’ve practised fresh answers to. It’s a painless and startling experience and I liked it. Perhaps that’s the way all jobs are decided: the answer earns a nod or a frown and the more nods gets you a job. Perhaps it’s more emotional than that: did we like her? Could we work with her? Maybe. Maybe not. Yesterday was matter-of-fact: points mean prizes, er, a job. But what if two of us got the same number of points for our answers. Would personalities come into play then? Or would it be a penalty shoot-out?
Do I want the job? I think so. My instinct says this is a nice team. So now I wait. And while I wait I have another interview. Two in two days – never been known before. I must be doing something right at last.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Suited and booted
It’s the age-old dilemma – what do I wear?
I need a good interview outfit. The old one is past its best and needs retiring. But finding a replacement is just as difficult as finding a job!
It’s easy for men – no choice necessary: pick a suit, any suit, add a shirt and a tie and shiny shoes and hey presto! An interview outfit! A suit says: I’m ready for business. I’m efficient and professional. But what if suits don’t suit? I’m the wrong shape for business-like jackets, not enough bosom to balance out the stomach. They just aren’t me.
Never one to give up, I wandered, hopefully, around the local stores with the perfect interview outfit in mind. The fashion buyers this season have opted for a whole different type of style and filled the shops full of chunky, short, colourful jackets with weird collars and enormous buttons. Not a great look when you are already chunky and short. Who wants to look like a character from Willy Wonker – just add your own stripped stockings!
Time for a rethink, I think!
I need a good interview outfit. The old one is past its best and needs retiring. But finding a replacement is just as difficult as finding a job!
It’s easy for men – no choice necessary: pick a suit, any suit, add a shirt and a tie and shiny shoes and hey presto! An interview outfit! A suit says: I’m ready for business. I’m efficient and professional. But what if suits don’t suit? I’m the wrong shape for business-like jackets, not enough bosom to balance out the stomach. They just aren’t me.
Never one to give up, I wandered, hopefully, around the local stores with the perfect interview outfit in mind. The fashion buyers this season have opted for a whole different type of style and filled the shops full of chunky, short, colourful jackets with weird collars and enormous buttons. Not a great look when you are already chunky and short. Who wants to look like a character from Willy Wonker – just add your own stripped stockings!
Time for a rethink, I think!
Agency Anguish
I wish I could find the key to working with recruitment agencies. They are the call-centre of job-seeking, the wall-like receptionist standing between you and your doctor. Unfortunately, they are a part of life so if someone could just provide a strategy for making them useful…?
Do the staff have their hearing removed when appointed? Why, when you say specifically you want to work local, to avoid pressurised offices and contract working do they think you might be interested in a 14 month contract based 14 miles away, working in a pressurised office for six managers. Oh, applicants must have recent experience of working for several people…I screamed, silently!
But it’s not all gloom. Two more agencies have my details and there is the local authority interview next week. The search feels as if it is starting to pick up. No news from the chocolate factory.
Do the staff have their hearing removed when appointed? Why, when you say specifically you want to work local, to avoid pressurised offices and contract working do they think you might be interested in a 14 month contract based 14 miles away, working in a pressurised office for six managers. Oh, applicants must have recent experience of working for several people…I screamed, silently!
But it’s not all gloom. Two more agencies have my details and there is the local authority interview next week. The search feels as if it is starting to pick up. No news from the chocolate factory.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Chocolate heaven - interview hell
I’ve been interviewed!
The chocolate wholesaler was impressed with the layout of my CV, apparently. Thelma rang on Wednesday for an informal chat, which lasted about half an hour. I liked her description of the company and the job so accepted her invitation to meet the next day.
Walking into the building was entering chocolate heaven. Chocolate filled the air and sat on every flat space. Chocolate squares, chocolate bars, gold-foiled chocolate figures, boxes of the stuff. Everywhere. Is it possible to have too much chocolate?
An hour later I left feeling exhausted. The excitement of being invited, followed by the joy of being in chocolate-heaven gave way to the tension of the two-on-one interview and deep scrutiny. And then the appeal of the vacancy drained away when a second, more in-depth round of interviews was mentioned. What more can I tell them?
What more indeed! Hindsight isn’t comforting. A hashed interview – questions answered but not listened too, the same old stuff repeated, it went like clockwork. But I’m not an automaton. If I want a different type of job, with fresh opportunities I need to interview differently too. I am more than just my last job; I am the sum of all my experiences. I should have listened carefully and taken a breath before repeating the familiar, too worn answer. I ought to have asked more questions but they didn’t occur to me at the time…I like to gather facts and to consider things at a distance but that’s not a good strategy for an interview.
I doubt I’ll get a second interview but I’ve learned a lesson or two. So, not all bad then? Next interview please!
The chocolate wholesaler was impressed with the layout of my CV, apparently. Thelma rang on Wednesday for an informal chat, which lasted about half an hour. I liked her description of the company and the job so accepted her invitation to meet the next day.
Walking into the building was entering chocolate heaven. Chocolate filled the air and sat on every flat space. Chocolate squares, chocolate bars, gold-foiled chocolate figures, boxes of the stuff. Everywhere. Is it possible to have too much chocolate?
An hour later I left feeling exhausted. The excitement of being invited, followed by the joy of being in chocolate-heaven gave way to the tension of the two-on-one interview and deep scrutiny. And then the appeal of the vacancy drained away when a second, more in-depth round of interviews was mentioned. What more can I tell them?
What more indeed! Hindsight isn’t comforting. A hashed interview – questions answered but not listened too, the same old stuff repeated, it went like clockwork. But I’m not an automaton. If I want a different type of job, with fresh opportunities I need to interview differently too. I am more than just my last job; I am the sum of all my experiences. I should have listened carefully and taken a breath before repeating the familiar, too worn answer. I ought to have asked more questions but they didn’t occur to me at the time…I like to gather facts and to consider things at a distance but that’s not a good strategy for an interview.
I doubt I’ll get a second interview but I’ve learned a lesson or two. So, not all bad then? Next interview please!
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
On feeling comfy
Three weeks. That’s how long it’s taken for me to feel comfy with my new situation. I sleep well: no more 2am panic attacks. The constant ‘get a job’ gremlin in my ear is silent. The tension in my body has gone and my days just aren’t long enough for all the things I’m now doing.
It’s worrying.
This isn’t a permanent situation. I know that. But the lack of tension is a welcome experience. If I focus entirely on getting a job will it return? It’s not like choosing a winter coat – go to the shop, try a few on and make a choice. Others have the advantage of making the choice; all I can do is pitch myself as a worthwhile candidate.
Change is a funny beast. We want it and yet when it happens we scream and kick against the opportunities that are on offer. I don’t regret walking away but it’s taken three weeks to stop hurting. I’m no longer angry, but I do run imaginary conversations with V and C through my mind. Conversations I will never have, so am I trying to justify what I did to myself? I don’t feel guilty or badly behaved particularly. I do feel misunderstood. But I don’t want to go back.
I like me at this moment. The first phase of my longed-for change is in progress, I suspect. Once we talked about a fresh start somewhere else, new home, new town and new careers but now we are asking if that will satisfy us. Are we, we ask, just looking for more meaning in our days? While we decide on the answers, I ought to find a way to pay the bills while holding onto my mellowness… not too much to ask, is it?
It’s worrying.
This isn’t a permanent situation. I know that. But the lack of tension is a welcome experience. If I focus entirely on getting a job will it return? It’s not like choosing a winter coat – go to the shop, try a few on and make a choice. Others have the advantage of making the choice; all I can do is pitch myself as a worthwhile candidate.
Change is a funny beast. We want it and yet when it happens we scream and kick against the opportunities that are on offer. I don’t regret walking away but it’s taken three weeks to stop hurting. I’m no longer angry, but I do run imaginary conversations with V and C through my mind. Conversations I will never have, so am I trying to justify what I did to myself? I don’t feel guilty or badly behaved particularly. I do feel misunderstood. But I don’t want to go back.
I like me at this moment. The first phase of my longed-for change is in progress, I suspect. Once we talked about a fresh start somewhere else, new home, new town and new careers but now we are asking if that will satisfy us. Are we, we ask, just looking for more meaning in our days? While we decide on the answers, I ought to find a way to pay the bills while holding onto my mellowness… not too much to ask, is it?
Coffee mornings
Old habits die hard. Which is why I found myself sitting with a frothy coffee at a local coffee shop at 8am this morning. Again. I’m a train running on the same old track: drop R off at the station just before 8am, drive up the boulevard to a free parking spot and wait for the day to start. In a coffee shop, naturally.
The competitive spirit is still there: must get a free parking place so I need to be there early. Extra early.
And so I sit with the others who are passing time with a caffeine fix. Some are waiting to start work, they are the suited and booted with integral mobile. Others, like me, are just kicking back. You can tell by their need to watch the world go by as though starved of human life and interaction. I’m watching so I class myself amongst that number.
I am feeling uncomfortable. Afterall, I am alarmingly close to my old office and I run the risk of bumping into former colleagues. What will they think of me sitting here at 8.20am there really is no need to be? Will they mark me down as sad and unable to move on? And what will I say if they raise my sudden departure? Should I take the chance to be bitchy or do I go for the ‘simply time to move on’ approach?
Is a free parking spot worth this hassle?
The competitive spirit is still there: must get a free parking place so I need to be there early. Extra early.
And so I sit with the others who are passing time with a caffeine fix. Some are waiting to start work, they are the suited and booted with integral mobile. Others, like me, are just kicking back. You can tell by their need to watch the world go by as though starved of human life and interaction. I’m watching so I class myself amongst that number.
I am feeling uncomfortable. Afterall, I am alarmingly close to my old office and I run the risk of bumping into former colleagues. What will they think of me sitting here at 8.20am there really is no need to be? Will they mark me down as sad and unable to move on? And what will I say if they raise my sudden departure? Should I take the chance to be bitchy or do I go for the ‘simply time to move on’ approach?
Is a free parking spot worth this hassle?
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Weekends are hard
Weekends are hard.
After a week of work I’d be glad for a couple of days off. At this time of year, it’s great to blame the weather and have a slow, lazy day doing little but eat and read and…hey, just be lazy! And if he’s relaxing by losing himself in something on his laptop that’s fine too…more time for me to do my ‘thing’.
But now? Mmm, a whole different scenario. Five days of listening to my own thoughts and kicking around the house alone I want company. I want his attention.
I know he’s tired and just relaxing. I know he’s still physically here in the house and I am glad of that. But I need more. I want conversation, and connection and to feel him close. I am suddenly needy. Subtle things ‘mean’ something important and my inner child starts to show off. I pout, and huff and pull a face. I am being immature in a distinctly unfunny sort of way.
He looks hurt.
I feel guilty.
We hug.
And go to the cinema. To sit in the dark. In silence.
After a week of work I’d be glad for a couple of days off. At this time of year, it’s great to blame the weather and have a slow, lazy day doing little but eat and read and…hey, just be lazy! And if he’s relaxing by losing himself in something on his laptop that’s fine too…more time for me to do my ‘thing’.
But now? Mmm, a whole different scenario. Five days of listening to my own thoughts and kicking around the house alone I want company. I want his attention.
I know he’s tired and just relaxing. I know he’s still physically here in the house and I am glad of that. But I need more. I want conversation, and connection and to feel him close. I am suddenly needy. Subtle things ‘mean’ something important and my inner child starts to show off. I pout, and huff and pull a face. I am being immature in a distinctly unfunny sort of way.
He looks hurt.
I feel guilty.
We hug.
And go to the cinema. To sit in the dark. In silence.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Not grinning, not bearing...
A week of recruitment agencies and scanning job ads is demoralising. Today I feel I’m not cut out for today’s world of work. I am an individual with a broad range of transferable skills. I do not want to sit all day doing the same thing because the job has been deskilled and therefore devalued. I know how to be polite, how to get things done on time, how to produce something that is fit for purpose and I consider it important to see things through from start to finish. Offices shouldn’t be the modern-day equivalent of the factory conveyor belt!
Now I know why there are so few people of my age working in offices nowadays: they’ve been replaced by youngsters wanting to be part of ‘the team’ and bonding in the pub after work or on management team-building exercises. Those who are still to be found are desperately clinging to their desks, with fear written in their faces. Afraid to rock the boat or attract attention they serve their time, but aren’t visible any more. How bloody annoying when the government wants us all to work until we are 70!
The Industrial Revolution has a lot to answer for – creating wage slaves of us all! Perhaps the solution is to create my own job? Time to think about this seriously!
Now I know why there are so few people of my age working in offices nowadays: they’ve been replaced by youngsters wanting to be part of ‘the team’ and bonding in the pub after work or on management team-building exercises. Those who are still to be found are desperately clinging to their desks, with fear written in their faces. Afraid to rock the boat or attract attention they serve their time, but aren’t visible any more. How bloody annoying when the government wants us all to work until we are 70!
The Industrial Revolution has a lot to answer for – creating wage slaves of us all! Perhaps the solution is to create my own job? Time to think about this seriously!
Square peg...
I’ve taken a radical step (for me) in this job hunt and uploaded my CV onto Monster.co.uk. I’ve put myself ‘out there’ and am doing a Bette Davis: advertising. The wonderful Bette found herself ignored by Hollywood in middle age and so being pragmatic, placed an advert in a trade paper saying she was looking for work. No idea if it worked but if Ms Davis can do it, so can I.
There’s little room for individuality on the Monster site. There are industry headings with boxes to tick (up to 10) for (I presume) preferred areas. Profession headings: ditto. There’s no opportunity to add something different, to say ‘hey this is what I can do but I’d like to do it in this area, and no, I’m not interested in doing something way below my skill base just because I’ve got great typing skills.
The site claims employers personally check the CVs – I doubt it. Lots and lots of agencies listed strangely enough.
So far, my CV hasn’t interested anyone, agency or employer. I’ve had a ‘no thanks’ for one particular job and the agency for the other hasn’t bothered to respond. Would be nice to get some useful feedback rather than simply be ignored. The words ‘square peg, round hole’ are clanging around my head constantly.
There’s little room for individuality on the Monster site. There are industry headings with boxes to tick (up to 10) for (I presume) preferred areas. Profession headings: ditto. There’s no opportunity to add something different, to say ‘hey this is what I can do but I’d like to do it in this area, and no, I’m not interested in doing something way below my skill base just because I’ve got great typing skills.
The site claims employers personally check the CVs – I doubt it. Lots and lots of agencies listed strangely enough.
So far, my CV hasn’t interested anyone, agency or employer. I’ve had a ‘no thanks’ for one particular job and the agency for the other hasn’t bothered to respond. Would be nice to get some useful feedback rather than simply be ignored. The words ‘square peg, round hole’ are clanging around my head constantly.
Here we go again...
A fresh day, a new start. Day one of the job search. My brand new CV is sitting waiting to wow the world of work but where are the jobs? I’ve checked out my usual recruitment sites but I need to be more innovative, so the books say. I’ve managed to find a couple of likely looking jobs and I’ve emailed a CV to the respective agencies. One agency has called already but mainly to check me out, not really to talk about a specific job. I hate the smiley, smiley falseness of recruitment agencies. It was obvious from the questions the voice asked that I was being scoped out for temping work. Here we go again! Why doesn’t anyone read what is written down on a CV!
I had a dream last night that I went back to my old job and just carried on as if nothing had happened. After about four hours of me plugging away someone suggested I ought to go home…but only after I’d done all the work! I wonder what that is saying about me?
I had a dream last night that I went back to my old job and just carried on as if nothing had happened. After about four hours of me plugging away someone suggested I ought to go home…but only after I’d done all the work! I wonder what that is saying about me?
Monday, October 1, 2007
Every day's Saturday
You know the feeling…you slowly rise to the surface from sleep and realise it’s Saturday. Great! No work! Ah, yes but there’s chores to do instead. But the pleasure of knowing its Saturday stays with you. Even the day feels different despite the list of ‘must does’ in your head. There is a wonderful luxury about Saturday. If you have a job. No job means every day is Saturday and the whole work/job balance thingy is shot.
So much time, so little to do. Old conditioning is hard to shake off. I ought to be enjoying the freedom but it feels odd. I’ve been used to having a fixed amount of free time and I’ve built my life around having a job, carving out some ‘me’ time and fitting the chores into the gaps.
Now extra time means time to think, to brood, to feel guilty, to wonder what on earth to do with my time! In the words of a long-ex husband: it’s very disconcerting!
So much time, so little to do. Old conditioning is hard to shake off. I ought to be enjoying the freedom but it feels odd. I’ve been used to having a fixed amount of free time and I’ve built my life around having a job, carving out some ‘me’ time and fitting the chores into the gaps.
Now extra time means time to think, to brood, to feel guilty, to wonder what on earth to do with my time! In the words of a long-ex husband: it’s very disconcerting!
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