Job interviews.
I am in the minority in that I secretly rather enjoy them - my narcissism is such that talking about myself non-stop for half an hour (a specialist subject of mine) holds no fears (yes, I sigh, I am rather fascinating, aren't I...), and I love snooping around other people's offices. However, this does not unfortunately mean that I am good at the interviewing process. Far from.
This morning was no exception. It went as follows:
Get up. Feel sick. Put on suit. Think of suitable excuse for not wearing heels. Catch bus (after panicking for ten minutes that I had missed it). Realise am hyperventilating slightly. Attempt to calm down. Thank God that I have left mysef a clear half hour in which to sit down, have breakfast, and transform myself into a polished professional.
Find charming breakfast cafe, called 'Loaf and Devotion'. One of those basic, yet trendy places - scrubbed wooden tables, red and yellow stools, tiny privet hedges in pots on tabletops. Sandwich menu so long and varied that I start to get scared just looking at it - and what the hell is bocconcini??? Avoid the temptation of french toast with maple syrup. Sticky isnt a good look. Sit down to enjoy cream cheese bagel, while watching 'fruitman sam' (great business name!) deliver to the smoothie stand next door.
Ok. Ten minutes to go. Stand up, check for crumbs and stray bits of cream cheese. Attempt to tame the morning waffro. Give self rousing pep-talk of the "you can do this" nature - once more unto the breach etc. Get bag stuck around chair leg. Fall over when chair resists my attempt to take it with me. Knock privet hedge off table. Make a lot of noise. Slink out of cafe crimson faced, stuttering apologies.
Find office, still five minutes to spare. Sit down, exchange pleasantries with receptionist. Interviewer arrives. She was the woman standing in the coffee queue who sniggered loudest at my recent chair debacle. Perfect.
I am in the minority in that I secretly rather enjoy them - my narcissism is such that talking about myself non-stop for half an hour (a specialist subject of mine) holds no fears (yes, I sigh, I am rather fascinating, aren't I...), and I love snooping around other people's offices. However, this does not unfortunately mean that I am good at the interviewing process. Far from.
This morning was no exception. It went as follows:
Get up. Feel sick. Put on suit. Think of suitable excuse for not wearing heels. Catch bus (after panicking for ten minutes that I had missed it). Realise am hyperventilating slightly. Attempt to calm down. Thank God that I have left mysef a clear half hour in which to sit down, have breakfast, and transform myself into a polished professional.
Find charming breakfast cafe, called 'Loaf and Devotion'. One of those basic, yet trendy places - scrubbed wooden tables, red and yellow stools, tiny privet hedges in pots on tabletops. Sandwich menu so long and varied that I start to get scared just looking at it - and what the hell is bocconcini??? Avoid the temptation of french toast with maple syrup. Sticky isnt a good look. Sit down to enjoy cream cheese bagel, while watching 'fruitman sam' (great business name!) deliver to the smoothie stand next door.
Ok. Ten minutes to go. Stand up, check for crumbs and stray bits of cream cheese. Attempt to tame the morning waffro. Give self rousing pep-talk of the "you can do this" nature - once more unto the breach etc. Get bag stuck around chair leg. Fall over when chair resists my attempt to take it with me. Knock privet hedge off table. Make a lot of noise. Slink out of cafe crimson faced, stuttering apologies.
Find office, still five minutes to spare. Sit down, exchange pleasantries with receptionist. Interviewer arrives. She was the woman standing in the coffee queue who sniggered loudest at my recent chair debacle. Perfect.
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