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I Was Looking For A Job, And Then I Found A Job

by makeupandmirtazapine on April 28, 2013 in Careers & Working

“True courage is being afraid, and going ahead and doing your job anyhow, that’s what courage is.” ~ Norman Schwarzkopf

For those of you who didn’t see my update about the job interview I went to last week. And are actually interested in how it went.

I set off for the interview a bundle of nerves. Thinking that if I’d managed to mess it up so badly the last time when I was feeling really confident about it, now that I was scared of messing it up again it could only be even worse.

I got there twenty minutes early, just like I did the last time. But I remembered that when I’d done the same last time they’d seemed quite put out, so rather than going in I went to the pub round the corner for a sit down. And a Glenfiddich with one lump of ice. It seemed like the best thing for dissolving the knots in my stomach.

I told myself that I hadn’t got the job and this was just a practice, to try to become less invested in the process.

Then I went back and showed up bang on time.

This time the staff were all really friendly, and even seemed pleased to see me.

Two out of three of the interview panel were different people this time. And I vaguely remembered having met one of them before at an industry thing a few years ago. I remembered that she’d been approachable, which I think helped.

And everything went exactly the way it should have in the first interview.

I remembered everything that I’d done, all the things that I do well, all my knowledge about the sector, how things work, what the challenges are. And we basically had a nice chat about working. I think I almost enjoyed myself.

They said they’d call me the next day.

They didn’t.

So I assumed they weren’t interested, and got on with applying for other things.

They called me the next evening and made me a conditional offer. Conditional on all their checks checking out. Which they will.

And in the meantime I’ve got a couple more interviews to go to.

So, the worst case scenario is that I have a new job. A new job that would be really good for me actually. There’ll be shifts and week days off, and so my working schedule won’t be so regimented as it was before. I think that’ll be good for me. And it’s a job that I’m really confident that I can do, and do well. Which should help me get my confidence back.

And the best case scenario is that the other interviews could well and I could find myself with options. Which would be quite nice.

Either way I’m going to be moving to London. I just need to find a place to live where I can keep Natalie Portman.

What To Do if You Fluff A Job Interview

by makeupandmirtazapine on April 18, 2013 in Careers & Working

“I hate interviews – but you have to do them.” ~ Jackie Chan

Sorry it’s been a bit quiet around here this week. I’ve been a bit busy. Mostly being interviewed. And when I haven’t been being interviewed, I’ve been applying to be interviewed. I’ve barely had time to get any sleep in.

I kicked off the week with a second interview down in London. I’d had the first part of the testing/interview process last week.

Now this interview should have been easy. I have years of experience doing the exact same things that I’d be doing in that role if they were to give it to me. The skills needed for the job are all the things that I’m really good at. It really should have been a piece of cake, so I arrived feeling pretty confident about the whole thing.

And then I got in the room with the interview panel.

And then I don’t know what happened.

I got stage fright or something.

It was as though I’d forgotten to speak English properly. Or any language. I just couldn’t seem to string a whole sentence together.

I couldn’t remember any of the work that I’d ever done in my career, or, explain how I’d go about working in a hypothetical scenario.

I don’t think I actually managed to give a complete and coherent answer to a single thing they asked me.

And it wasn’t as though they asked me any difficult questions. I’d rehearsed perfect answers to all of them in my head on the train on the way in.

I could see by the end of it that the interviewers just thought that I’d completely wasted my time and there’s.

I slunk off to the nearest pub and drowned my sorrows in a pint of hoola hoops. An actual pint of hoola hoops, this pub served hoola hoops in pint glasses. And as soon as I sat down I remembered exactly how perfect I would have been for that job, and all of the great examples of why I was going to tell them that they should give it to me.

I could have kicked myself.

Really, really hard.

The next day I looked up the email address for the chair of the interview panel online. I sent her a message thanking her, and the rest of the panel, for their time and the opportunity of the interview. I apologised for having been so nervous that I hadn’t been able to answer their questions as well as they might have hoped. And I explained that I didn’t understand where all the nervousness had come from, because I know that I’m awesome, and that I’d be awesome for that role and in that organisation.

I added a few of the examples that I’d remembered on the way home to justify my claims to awesomeness; and said that while I was by no means asking for special treatment, I would be happy to provide any information that we weren’t able to get to in the interview that might help them in making their decision.

And then thanked the panel once again for the opportunity.

And sent the email.

Then I sat back anticipating a response from the interview lady telling me that it would be unfair to the other candidates to allow me to provide additional information into the process, and anyway, my interview had truly been so awful that they were quite sure that they didn’t want me.

But instead the HR team responded to me with an email scheduling another interview appointment.

I rang them to ask if it was a mistake, but they said no, they want to interview me again.

Apparently the panel decided that I wasn’t ‘appointable’ on the basis of Monday’s interview, but that the director had been impressed by my initiative and self motivation in getting in touch with her straight away. They also seem to think that it shows an impressive amount of self-awareness to have noticed that the world’s worst interview was, well, the world’s worst interview. And they were impressed with the extra information that I had provided.

So I’m getting a second (third?) interview.

And the HR lady says that they never do this.

So, folks, if you ever find yourself in the position of having completely fluffed a job interview:

Remember that you’re awesome as soon as possible
Apologise to the panel for the horrible experience you’ve just put you all through, and
Make it clear that you’re back to your sparkling best form already.

And you might, just, turn the situation around.

Can’t hurt to try now, can it?

UPDATE: I had the re-interview a couple of days ago. And it was great. I don’t know whether it was because I got my act together, because I was telling myself I’d blown it and to just treat this as a practice, or because I had a shot of whiskey in the pub round the corner to calm my nerves before I went in. But it went perfectly, I said all the things I wanted to say and managed to sound knowledgeable and confident.

And I got the job!

Provisionally anyway. They just called me. They need to take up my references and a couple of other things, but if that all checks out okay they’ll be able to give me a start date.

Killing In The Name Of

by makeupandmirtazapine on March 16, 2013 in Careers & Working, Mental Health & Wellbeing

“It isn’t here, you must have dreamed you put it there. Are you suggesting that this is a knife I hold in my hand? Have you gone mad, my husband?” ~ Paula Alquist Anton, Gaslight, (1944)

For the first time since I started blogging this week I was organised enough to have worked out a blogging schedule. But then a boat load of crazy happened and everything went to pot. I hope to get everything back on track next week.

Everything has gone to pot because the popular national charity that I’m trying to extricate myself from working for has decided that they don’t recognise my illness as being a thing. They’ve also decided that they’ve never seen any of the sick notes I’ve submitted, and that this fiction entitles them not to pay me.

This is at the same time as asserting that they have done everything possible to help me to manage my disability.

The plan basically seems to be to stress out the person with the serious mental health problem to the point where she has to give up on trying to get them behave fairly in order to preserve the vestiges of her own sanity.

This time last week I was feeling so hopeless about this that I didn’t think that I had any options save jumping off the roof. This week they’ve gone so far that I’m actually livid.

Either way I need these charlatans out of my life.

This matter was supposed to be resolved before Christmas.