Contracts, questions, crime thrillers and ricotta canolli

Exhale after me - phhhhhhwaaah. Yep today was my job interview kiddoes. Not just a job interview but the job interview that I had to wrapmychristmaspresentstidythehousepaymybillspackmysuitcasehaveworkgoodbyedrinksgetthetraindownthehill (and still get into bed for an early night for). Because tomorrow I fly out to spend time with family for Christmas. And last week was my first week (what we might euphemistically call) 'between contracts'. As in the Friday before I found out that due to adminitrative /budgetary/ restructuring / tendering policy quirks and recent developments my reemployment was going to have to take a little Christmas holiday as it were. In short, where I had been expecting (and verbally assured of) either employment or engagement as a consultant in the next few weeks, it now looks like I can participate in a competitive tendering process along with everyone else in mid-late Jan. Most likely late. And in theory this is fine, this is understandable, this is laudable even, but in practice it was an absolute pain in my (moulded to the curves of the office chair) derierre, not to mention gobsmackingly surprising, not to mention highly impractical and financially disasterous. My manager was suitable apologetic and surprised herself, so I found it hard to be actually angry but distressed, yes that was easy! I felt like some character out of a Dickens novel, only there was no sick little Timmy, and I don't have consumption, and I have enough to eat and ...oh ok it's not really all that much like that at all..but unsettling nevertheless.

So.. now I've painted in the background we can skip forward to todays interview. OK so imagine this. At the outset I am told firmly that we have 20 minutes only - and I'm not used to anything less than 45 mins....ah ok I'm thinking, I need to rethink technique. 4 questions only, 2 focused on only on research...hmmm, ok. The last of the 4 questions is "what are you most proud of in your life?". Holy crap. As if interviews aren't bad enough without adding that kind of question. As if they aren't like some freakish mix of half date, half exam where you have to answer lots of questions and provide examples for the examiners but meanwhile wear your best outfit, smile nicely and charm a panel into wanting to call you back. Great effing idea whoever thought that up.

So how did it go? Visualise this: I talk like a race commentator to try and get all the details into my answers, I do the spectacular bungle of completely failing to mention any example at all (sorry, correction - any MENTION at all) of the research and policy work I did last yr OS. Sorry, just in case you missed that let me reiterate: this is a research consultant position working in a consultancy environment, and the one and only time I've worked in that environment was last year and I completely failed to mention it. A national project to develop policy that required interdisciplinary research into lots pof cool techie stuff and follows world best practice and I talked about BIRD MONITORING IN PARKS instead. Ahem.

And if you think that is bad, get this. Seriously this is actually quite funny. For a question about numeracy I gave the worlds worst example ever that sounded like all I was capable of was kindie style cutting up cakes to do fractions - without any mention of say,. stormwater flow modelling calculations that I've done, or the fact that I'm studying finance modules as part of my Masters, or say that I've used excel to do simple biological modelling, or used stats or anything really of any value to anyone. So, imagine that you're a surgeon asked to give an example of having manual dexterity and an eye for detail and rather than say 'ah well, there's the brain surgery thing' you say 'um, ah, I quite like throwing a frisbee and well that means you have to be able to catch...'. Aaaah, you have to laugh.

On the glass half full side, I think the panel were quite nice and friendly - 2 out of 3 in particular. I also promptly forgot about how frizzy my hair was and my vaguely mismatched accessories or the fact that my suit pants highlight my (don't have kids but none the less have a rather fetching) mum-belly and instead became engrossed in the task at hand. I remembered to smile, I made a few jokes and they laughed (no, not 'and a research consultant walks into a bar' kind, the lighten the mood comment kind), and I even answered the dreaded qstn number 4 after prefacing that it was a hard one and did they actually want an honest answer, and answered in a way that was honest and meaningful to me brather than shiny and pretty and point winning. So I retained some semblance of integrity (I reckon) and you gotta be happy about that. I also did not at any stage mention that I am in the middle of having a career crisis or that I secretly think working in an office is potentially not my cup of tea, and did not go off on any tangents about deep ecology, cosmology, consumerism, ecopsychology, felt making, the benefits of community gardening or how I never tidy my bedroom but am ok with that as I think it a sign of great tolerance and adaptability to find stuff in amongst the rubble. All of which is good.

Now I plan to relax over a ricotta canolli (that mum belly isn't going anywhere soon) and finish reading the Sue Grafton crime novel (C is for corpse) that I picked up at the Springwood book exchange. Nothing like some mindless holiday reading to get me in the mood for holidays!