At 11am, I was in London attending a job interview and by 4pm I was walking on a Norfolk beach with Verity…
Kudos to The Missus for her chauffuering skills.
Very tired. A little bit down and apprehensive as I wait and see if I make the cut for the second interview. As my life experience has told me, nothing is ever clear-cut or easy-to-read these days and now I am totally perplexed to the point of wondering if I did a good job at the interview. If I’ve messed this up, I’m going to be pretty upset about it, more-so than usual because so much is riding on it. This is my chance to “fix things”, to put right the things that have come undone due to my poor decision-making. This is also a chance to save the business. But that still all depends on the bank, I guess.
So…
I answered the questions.
I drew a diagram on the dry-board.
I fluffed a question and probably laboured my point a bit.
I gave three article examples off the top of my head.
I was also half-an-hour early for the interview, which is a first.
On leaving, the nice HR lady asked me how I thought I did. I replied: “I don’t know” because I didn’t know. Because you never know, do you?
I’ve only ever had a handful of job interviews that have gone really bad. My first interview was with the local library didn’t go bad per se, but I was overwhelmed by being interview by four individuals and I was only fifteen or sixteen at the time and it completely wiped me out as I get a bit of a nervous nelly at these things, when I know I should be cooler than a cucumber in a bucket of liquid nitrogen at the arctic. Then I remember an interview I had with a bank (don’t ask) after I did my A-levels and I remember sitting there realising that I didn’t actually want the job and the chair was really uncomfortable – it was one of those modern jobbies: angular, uncomfortable, sitting back-to-front. I found myself drifting off into the heavens and daydreaming out of the window and being fascinated by the clouds rolling by. Then there was the period after my degree when I managed to collect over 100 rejection letters and there was this one interview I where I was left in a room on my own for ages as the two guys interviewing me left for a moment of consultation and then returned. I can’t remember what spurred it but I basically had a mini-meltdown and just decided to beg for the job. Safe to say, I didn’t get it.
But all the other interviews that I’ve failed, even the ones I’ve got, I just don’t know what the outcome is going to be. There’s a real sense of “I don’t know”. Is it about personality? Experience? The right university education? I don’t know. I’d love to know the secret of success. Wouldn’t we all? It is a total mystery. The things you think should happen invariably don’t.
So there I was suited and booted and looking like an East End hardnut, and I don’t think I actually put my foot in my mouth or anything. However, neither did I bang the table and shout “bullshit!” either – now I’ve done that in a couple of interviews and gotten the job.
Funny old game, ain’t it?

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