Inexplicable spasms of the tounge.

Life has certainly been interesting the last couple of years. I fell in love and had my heart broken (I always thought that was just a phrase, but no) and even did that whole stereo-typical break-up-in-an-airport thing. Of course after that I bought six Krispy Kremes doughnuts (blueberry, cinnamon, cream (or 'kreme'), jam, chocolate and something random. A Boston something?) and ate them whilst driving home. Of all the many things I regret about that day, number one is eating a jam donut while wearing my best white jumper.

I also left my long-term job. I thought I had something else lined up, but unfortunately it fell through which is a problem seeing as I look fairly un-employable on paper. I work hard. I work diligently. I'm flexible, adaptable, energetic and personable (ok, those aren't so much the skills I use in a job, more like the skills I employ to get a job. Flexibility, especially). The problem is I don't have any qualifications. It's funny: when I was in school I didn't realise how important all that bumph would be, and it was free; now that I want to learn, need to learn even, I can't afford to. And I can't earn enough to learn without learning enough to earn enough to learn. Or something. See, I need an education!

Anyway. What I was actually going to blog about was the interview I had yesterday. I got up at 6:55am, went to work, left at 9:10am, got to my interview at 9:45am (well, actually 9:46, I was a minute late because I panicked a little while parking and backed my car into something. I think it was a parking meter but it might have been a dog or a small child: I was running into the building when I looked back to check so everything was a little blurry). When I arrived, they ushered me into a little room for a spelling test, a word processing test and a something else test. Then I had the interview, left at about 11am, and went home to find my front door wide open, which caused me to have a minor heart-attack. Luckily, it was someone who was supposed to be there but I'll cover that in another post. I didn't mean to stop at home but I was so hungry that when some cheese accidentally fell onto some toast, slipped under the grill and came out a perfect shade of golden-brown, I felt like it was divine will that I was meant to have cheese on toast and appease my hunger, so I couldn't help but stop and eat it. I got back to work for about 12pm.

To be honest, I don't really remember much of the interview. I was so shocked to have been asked to go along for it in the first place that I was in a bit of a daze. I'd applied for approximately ten to twelve jobs the previous week and had had rejection letters from eight or nine, so I was, I admit, losing a little bit of hope. Not much, but just a little. I have little flashes of memory, like thinking during the spelling test: "Crap, how can I not know how to spell (something like) liaise?". That devious second 'i' gets me every time, the sneaky little thing.

Onwards to the interview. I was sitting quite happily in the waiting room after the test, unfortunately engrossed in my book ("The Queen's Fool" - Phillipa Gregory), when the interviewer came to find me. You know what it's like when you're reading and you have to dis-engage and go back to the real world: I did a double-take, wrenched myself away from the page and accidentally nearly swallowed my gum (I know gum does not make a good impression, but it's my one concession to stress). Good first impression: check.

They started by explaining aspects of the job. I hope I chimed in with pertinent and interesting comments to show that I'd listened and understood, but I worry that I was over-enthusiastic and over-bearing. It's never a good sign when you catch yourself, pause and stammer apologetically to the interviewer "I'm sorry, I cut the end of your sentence off there. Please, do carry on."

I talked a lot, I remember that. I also remember making some jokes, and I really wish I could remember them. I do remember making a joke about a cup of tea and then nervously laughing at myself and I may have snorted a little. I'm cringing a little just thinking about it.

I remember being a little too honest at times (why?) and then not honest enough. I was repetitive yet interesting, serious yet funny. I think. I'm not comfortable with the whole attitude toward interviews which is: talk yourself up. Lie if you have to. Don't say anything negative and, oh yeah, you're the best thing since sliced bread. I find it hard to walk that line between honest self-evaluation and gratuitous self-promotion and so occasionally feel like I'm...well...talking out of my ass. Mind you, I guess it's like every interview: you walk out regretting the things you didn't say and the the things you did say.

I wish I could remember more specifically what they said to me, and what I said in response, but my memory is one big hour-long blur. The only things I can remember are: 1) vaunting my people-skills so much that if I remember this when I'm old, all I'm going to remember is me squawking "People skills! Personable! People skills!" to answer every question asked of me like some sort of demented parrot and 2) being asked the question "If we were to contact a previous employer, friend or colleague, what do you think they would say about you?" to which my near instantaneous response was: "that I'm a bad dancer."

I may have laughed at myself a little bit after that too. A horrible geeky laugh. With a snort.