Did you read my post a while back about being shortlisted for an interview? Well, as some of you know (probably all too well, seeing as I chatted about it on Twitter quite a bit) I didn’t get the job.
My initial reaction was: Bah-fuckery-tits-and-tossy-bollocks. Arse.
So, I’m disappointed.
It was a job which I really wanted. A job I think I would have been really good at. A job which would have motivated me to push myself and do well.
But I didn’t get it.
It’s a right old fucker. You see, I’ve mentioned before the trouble I have being a real person. When I read @ageingmatron’s post the other day about procrastination it struck a chord with me. That’s the sort of person I am. Why put off ‘til tomorrow what you can put off ‘til even later?
But this time I acted like a real person. I researched the role carefully. I honed my application form so that it was a razor sharp tool for precision interview snagging. I read relevant internal strategy documents and memorised key points to be able to regurgitate in response to the interview panel. I produced a presentation showcasing my talents, abilities and vision for the role. I took deep breaths and delivered coherent and well argued responses to each of the questions I was asked. I bestowed each member of the panel with just the right amount of attention and eye contact. I wore my best shirt, my shiniest shoes, my sharpest (alright, only) suit and cufflinks. I was a blend of charm, levity and AWESOME which, I thought, it would be hard for any other candidate to match.
I even TIDIED MY BEARD.
|It's not pubes. It's my face.|
Perhaps I ought to have shaved the bastard thing off.
The feedback from the panel when they informed me of my failure did not cite my facial hair as a limiting factor. This is good because, without the pay rise the new position would have provided, I remain unable to stomach the frankly outrageous cost of Gilette Mach 3 blades. I may be taking shears to my face before any future interviews.
What they actually said was “your interview was fantastic, we really couldn’t find fault with it. We had to think very carefully about whether to offer the job to you or [name of victor]” (he’s not actually called Victor).
So I don’t feel angry. Usually there’s a lingering air of having shot myself in the foot with these things. My inability to focus and act like a grown up leading to a half-arsed application or interview performance has been my downfall in the past.
Instead, I have that weak, pitiful, something and nothing feeling of disappointment. Sloshing around in the brainspace. Making me feel a little bit melancholy. A little bit grumpy. A smidge miffed. Nothing stronger. Nothing that made me want to rant and rage for more than a few minutes.
Oh well. Moving on. I had a few ciders last night and I’ll mention the disappointment no more.
What disappointments have you endured in recent times, and how do you like to deal with them?