Disaster

I am proof positive that there are no such things as guardian angels. Or at least if there are, I’ve had a vacancy for a very long time.

I mentioned that I have an interview on Monday, right? I really would like to work for this company and I’ve been doing my research and preparing like mad. And this weekend I was going to pull all that research together and formulate my responses to likely (and unlikely) questions. I’d planned my outfit. I’d plotted how to slip away from work without detection. I was going to be slick, professional, prepared.

So I was mildly surprised when my colleague wished me luck this morning over my computer. His girlfriend was one of the interviewers so he knew about it. I sent a merry note back about Monday and how nervous I was; he queried the date. I checked my letter. No, the interview was TODAY in half an hour’s time. Dear Reader, I hope you are gasping in horror and sympathy – can you imagine how I felt? Well, let me compound your horror that by telling you that it’s dress down Friday in my office and I was in skinny jeans (they’re still called that if you’re not skinny, right?), a coral Breton tunic and plimsolls. Their HR department was sympathetic but immovable. Shaking with distress and fear I ran out of the door, straight there.

I managed a merry quip about the lovely jacket I’d been intending to wear at the start of the interview; I closed by laughing that at least no-one at work would dream of where I’d been, dressed as I was, but really I was a hair breadth from screaming with rage, frustration and disappointment. Mixed in with a dash of humiliation for being such an idiot (HOW did I think it was Monday? It’s in my diary for Monday, I had it all planned out...). I didn’t do my best; I was nervous and gabbled too much and too fast. My answers were not succinct and slick, they were flabby and unfocussed. I think I managed maybe 60-70% of my best at most – that’s all. Okay, under the circumstances that’s probably all I could do but it’s not enough. P thinks that my 70% is better than anyone else’s 100%, bless him, and praised me for my bravery in getting up and just doing it under difficult circumstances. And he pointed out that I have more chance of getting it by doing what I did, than by taking the easy option and not going.

I have to wait for two weeks now to hear the result. And I need to. I’m pretty certain that I won’t get that job but I cannot help but have a little, teeny-tiny flicker of hope and I need that to be put out so I can move on. But I bet I have nightmares tonight.

Still, at least they’ll remember me, right? Grrrrooooaaaan.