Through the hoops

Yet again I face an interview. For the job I have been doing for the last seven months or so. It would be fair to say that I am quietly confident, but then again the interview isn't until Thursday, so the nerves haven't begun to kick in yet. Interviews have that quality of being awful while you are undergoing them, but exhilarating in hindsight. Unlike on other occasions, I have prepared for this one, and have had a great deal more experience in conducting competency based interviews. Also in my favour (or is it?) is that my current boss and perhaps her boss will be on the panel. Fewer opportunities to bullshit of course, but it's also true that they both pretty much know what I am and am not capable of doing by now.

Thursday of course is the day after the long awaited announcement on the government spending review, and given my employer's almost total reliance on Treasury funds, things could indeed be radically different by the time I'm sitting in that meeting room trying to recall examples of a time I delivered excellent customer service. Reassuring at least that the defence cuts will not be as large as were feared, though I am struggling to see the point of building aircraft carriers if you can't afford to buy the bloody aeroplanes to go on them.  Seems a bit silly.

In any case, why can't we share an army with the USA? We could contribute a bit of money - though substantially less than the £100 million per fighter that we're talking about now - and ask the Yanks to send over a couple of planes as and when they are needed. We have the same goals in every conflict the Americans create, and it is extremely unlikely that we would ever find ourselves in opposition to Uncle Sam. If we did, we wouldn't last 5 minutes in any case, so why bother? Colonel Bluster or some such arse was on the radio the other day saying that we wouldn't be able to defend the Falkland Islands again should the need arise. Well, a quick call to the Supreme Commander would soon sort that out.

Out of the blue

No more Whatever Happened to the Likely Lads at 9 in the morning. No more Top Gear re-runs. No more 'Pop down to Waitrose for me if you've got nothing else to do.' Despite my feelings of self doubt after yesterday's second interview, I have been successful in obtaining employ. Hooray for me. I start on Tuesday morning, and I promise I will be a good boy, especially now that I know what it's like on the outside. I will not need the Nurse Ratched treatment in order to toe the line, and that's a promise. Yes sir. I also apologise for anything beastly I may have said in previous posts. It would be a real doozy if I got fired for a dooce before I even started work, eh?

This has been the longest period since I left college that I have been without a job, and though fun when it started, it has definitely begun to wear thin. So with a spring in my step, I will return to daily shaving, daily commuting and daily grumbling at the water cooler. I will let you all know how it goes. What lies before me is a few days of genuine rest, where I can get up without thinking about application forms or daily email prompts from online employment services, where I don't have to check my bank balance against the calendar (birthdays, Mother's Day, my eldest daughter's first school trip - these are all coming up) while biting my lip.

It all starts (where else?) at the Brittannia Stadium (yet again, fucking hell!) with the replay against the sodding Potters this evening. I have a bad feeling about this, is all I will say. But at least - even if we did win - Chelsea away would be the prize, so that makes it all better. Then it's, er, Chelsea away. Bah. No matter, nobody can piss on my bonfire today. I'm a minger!

Quite enough of that

Update: Received a call saying they want to see me tomorrow (Tuesday) afternoon. At last!

I'm not even going to mention the game yesterday. It doesn't merit me wasting any of the copious free time I have at my disposal. Instead, on this pissy Monday in the middle of this interminable winter, I will have a quick moan about the job situation.



Since my last post on the subject, which was somewhere around two weeks ago, I am STILL waiting for a second interview date for one of the jobs I applied for. I won't mention the name of the organisation, but suffice it to say that they seem to treat their recruitment process in much the same way as they treat the captive public, who have little choice but to buy their products. No doubt (and I hope that I'm not giving the game away here) there will be a request to attend 3 interviews at the same time just as I have more or less completely given up hope of getting anywhere. There is - it seems - little I can do about it, caught as I am with a recruitment agency, who are themselves somehow brokering a deal on the job with another agency. My contact says she is not able to communicate directly with the hiring manager, so in a word - fucked. Which doesn't mean I don't feel like running over to her and grabbing her by the lapels (a la our famous leader) and yelling "Stupid bitch!" into her ear because there's nothing worse than waiting.

In the meantime, I am preparing for the other second interview which is scheduled for this Wednesday afternoon. I have no idea what I might be asked to do or say however, and will need (I guess) to think on my feet. From there? More waiting, but I don't think too long either way, as these people do seem to be true to their word in communicating their decisions early.

Truth be told, I just want a job now. Any bloody job will do, just so long as I can get myself out of the house for a while.

Observations

Update 3 (12/02/10): Now being called for second interview for the second job I'm chasing. Seems that employers can put us job-seekers through hoops in the current market. Ah well, nothing I can do except go for it.

Update 2: Separate interview this morning. Stress levels through the roof, but I think it was a good one, so any crossed appendages would be gratefully received.

Update: I have been successful for the first interview, but now await the date of a second one. Sigh.

So to interview yesterday - first of two in the next couple of days - and it went reasonably well I think. The main thrust seemed to be about why I was attracted to the job, which is something of a move away from the areas I have been working in till now, and I think I managed to put forward some convincing and cogent arguments.

Prior to going in, I was - as is usual for me - thinking that I would just say 'fuck it' and go home, but I took a deep breath, checked my tie in the mirror for about the hundredth time, and strode in. After a brief tour (very interesting facility they have, which - should I prove successful - I'm sure I'll write more about) I was deposited in the room for the scenario test, and despite my imagination concocting all kinds of things from a panel of professionals firing off questions to a full re-enactment of a road traffic accident, a la Casualty, it turned out to be two facilities-type questions to be answered on MS Word in 30 minutes. Again, I think I fared well enough, as I should with more than 20 years' experience in the field, and proceeded to the panel interview. They were not the scariest panel I have ever faced, and I found myself relaxing into the task as I went on, and could see that I was getting some positive responses. No doubt that last sentence will be the jinx which means that I don't get the bloody thing, but we will wait and see. There were, I was told, six candidates to be seen, and a possibility of a second interview to follow. I was also informed that they would feed back their decision quickly. And so I wait.



On the way there, I had an unwanted demonstration of the worst of this city as I sat on a bus at Parliament Square. A man got on and presented a £10 note to the bus driver, which has been a faux pas for at least the last ten years, and was told that only pre-paid tickets or passes could be used within the central zone. Not to be discouraged, the man said he only wanted to travel one or two stops and then he would get off and collect some change from a shop (as there is a Tesco Metro not far from the bus stop, his argument didn't really hold water, but there you go) but the driver was having none of it. By now, the patience of (no doubt) a lady civil servant near the front of the bus had been exhausted and she said, in a raised voice:

"What are you doing? Get a move on!"

The man ignored her and continued his futile negotiation with the driver and so the woman went on: "You're holding everybody up. Get off the bus!" she said. The man turned to us fortunate, seated passengers and waving his tenner, said:

"Has anyone got change?"

Everybody except the woman simply shook their heads and stared at the floor, while she ranted:

"NO! Now get off the bus!"

He realised that he could not go on and stepped out of the warmth of the doorway into the snow and freezing wind. As we moved off, the woman was saying to her companion:

"He was just wasting everybody's time. Ridiculous!" As if it was vitally important for her to get to her meaningless place of employment in Whitehall so that she could whinge about everyone over her coffee. All funded by the taxpayer. I ask you.

Onward and upward, as they say. Preparation for second interview now, which takes place tomorrow morning.

Once more unto the Breach

Another year, another interview. And it hasn't come any too soon let me tell you. I had a good feeling about the job when I first saw it advertised, and so far so good, though I will find out on Monday whether it gets any better. Between now and then I will be preparing some responses and wondering about the 'impromptu scenario' they've told me to expect before the interview itself starts. The location (oddly) was one of the reasons I felt optimistic about it, being as it is in the same area I've worked for the last three or four years. I don't know why that in itself made me feel more confident, but it did. Genius loci, or whatever.

Although the salary is a little less than I have been used to, the associated benefits more than make up for any disparity, so I will be happy enough with getting there and with my pay cheque at the end of each month. As for the organisation, well, I have always wanted to feel that I could offer a little back through my labour, and there will be an element of that. I won't say any more for fear of jinxing things, but it is at least a positive step.



And, as is often the case, the bus law seems to have come into force again, as I received a call immediately after hearing about the interview with an offer of - potentially - another job. This would be a contract (six month) position, but compensation for that would be received in the higher salary. Currently, needless to say, both irons are in the fire and I am going to do my best to keep the bellows going.

Luck be a lady on Monday morning, please.

La La La

(And... Here we go with a pre-cursor to a Sunday lunchtime hammering by the Smilers, but it was fun while it lasted. Not saying anything against SWP BTW, but I seriously thought that Daddy Dick deserved man of the match tonight)

As I have suddenly got to prepare for an 'interview' tomorrow, and as the 'interview' is for an as yet (to me anyway) undefined job, meaning that I will have to ditch the usual Friday clobber and dress UP even MORE than usual, inviting the inevitable questions about why I'm wearing a tie on a Friday, or else stuffing a change of clothes into my bag and lugging it across town, and will have to try and prepare for... Christ knows what, I thought it was high time for a musical post. The days of new albums seem so far distant, yet brought to life by the jogging of scents, that I marvel at how far we have travelled, and at how I would now no more consider buying a CD than I would a fine pony.



Like many other things in this crazy world, my relationship with music has changed beyond all recognition. Time was (and what a time it was) that TOTP was the pivot of the week. Not anymore. This change in perception is not solely down to ageing, as the total absence of the show from the TV schedules, and - more tellingly - the recent impasse between the mighty Google and the PRS, clearly demonstrates. Is there a music chart these days (that was a rhetorical question, by the way) and who is at Number 1 (that was a genuine question...)?

I have, like millions before me, trodden the path of:

the sudden realisation that music can be digitized, sent across the intarwebs and downloaded buckshee on to one's home computer (though via a dial-up connection, it was a labour of love, I'm sure you'll agree) through the ownership of an MP3 player, to Bluetoothing tracks between mobiles, to an iPod, through the Hype Machine and onward into the nirvana of Limewire on a broadband connection (though this relationship has turned sour with the release of the latest version and its incompatibility with the faithful old Mac Mini, with its Power PC chip, on whose wheezing torso I am beating out the tattoo of the very letters which appear before you) On to nuTsie, on which I have blogged before. It was irritating in its own special way - based on online versions of the tracks in your library, and often bowdlerised versions at that, but it was a great goodness to grok for a time. I haven't bothered with it since I don't know when.

Then came BlipFM via Twitter, with which I have been - largely - enamoured despite its occasional foibles on search. I like the 'props' idea and enjoy discovering tracks that I would not otherwise have heard about.

The final note in the scale has been Spotify. Ah, it is a beautiful thing, rich in its musical and visual tapestry. But, and you know what I mean, I was desperately seeking God. By Mr Lennon. And it was nowhere to be found. My curiosity pricked, I reached my tendrils towards Julia, and she was not there either, only her plain sister with a vile karaoke dress on.

So there we have it. Up to date as far as that goes. In an echo of modern working practices, I am happy to be rootless, head in the clouds, accessing the treasure trove of whatever takes my fancy. Until the cloud breaks and I don't have any music any more.

Trotters for tea

Bit tasty that was, eh?

Coming back from 2 down to win 4-2. Oh yes. I'll have nothing said about Rolando's snood. Not a word, now that he's settling in to the Manchester way of life at last.

And of course Liverpool bought the Katie. Just a shame that it was the Rags wot done it. I was hoping for either a nil nil or a 3-3 in that one, and similar for Arsenal/Chelsea, but you can't always get your druthers, can you?

Another bleeding interview today, which I think went reasonably well - at least better than the last one I did. Maybe by the middle of next year I'll have had enough practice to qualify as a decent interviewee. I don't think I did enough to get the job, and I'm not all that sure I want it, in any case. Time will tell, and I expect to find out later today. After that, not much till mid January now.

A merry fookin Xmas to one and all.

Squeaky bum time

I think the next week or two are going to be very big for me.

As you know, I have my driving test on Tuesday. The instructor is becoming increasingly annoying, and either way, I'll be happy to see the back of him. A failure will mean going to another school for the lessons I think I might need in order to have another crack at it, a pass will mean just that.

My current job is ending at the end of December, and I have been scouting around for opportunities. Yesterday, I spoke with someone at an executive search company. It wasn't the kind of outfit I would have normally considered, but I was put in touch through someone I have worked with before. It will be interesting to see if anything comes of it.

I have also been talking to another agency about a job, and something was put on the table, but after about a week, I have heard nothing. To be frank, the job wasn't hugely appealing to me, so I would be quite glad if it was removed from the equation at this stage.

Finally, I have an application in for a job which would seem to be ideal for me. I hear that they aim to fill the post within 2 weeks, so (all being well) I should be contacted for an interview very soon. The prospect causes my sphincter to tighten ever so slightly, as I don't really like interviews. But, endure them we must. All in all, my mouth is silghtly dry as I ponder the definite, as well as potential, events that lie ahead of me.

Ah well, City are through to the quarters of the 3 handled cup, so that at least is good news.