The Interview

I had a headache for most of the afternoon, that slowly settled in for the long haul and became a migraine as the evening wore on. Despite taking paracetamol and later, one of my usual stronger migraine tablets, it was still ever-present. I took the train home, grimacing and squinting for most of the way, as the throbbing in my forehead got worse. On the way from the station, I met a guy who lives across the way from me. We had a chat and he told me about the play he is currently rehearsing for, taking place from next Wednesday until the end of the month at a venue not far from my place of work. He gave me a flyer and I mentioned that I would try to come along. He’s a really lovely guy, a few years younger than me, but very mature and has his head screwed on. He seems to be doing well and I’m pleased about that.

As I arrived home, our grocery delivery was just arriving, which resulted in our kitchen floor being overrun by shopping bags. Despite the abundance of food, Bro-in-Law was going to walk up the road to get some Chinese food, as no-one could be bothered to cook. We put the shopping away until he arrived back, laden with food from a place we haven’t tried before, but which was surprisingly delicious. My chicken with ginger and spring onion with boiled rice went down a treat. We ate together, laughing as we watched Professional Masterchef and basically cussed everything about it, then switched over to Location, Location, Location and basically cussed everything about that, too.

After eating, sharing out Fab lollies for dessert, then watching a very interesting video of Wafa Sultan (an Arab-American psychologist from LA) giving her views on Islam and the ‘culture clash’ on Al-Jazeera television in Dubai, I retreated upstairs to nurse my migraine. I got ready for bed and then called The Mrs for a quick chat, mainly to see how her and her Mr are doing, but additionally for me to bemoan the rest of the male species. She wished me lucked for my interview, reminded me (in the hopes of cheering me up) that no-one is a bigger d***head than her ex (it worked), and then asked me to call her in the morning.

I half-watched some CSI, ate a bowl of Weetos (yes, my appetite is still ridiculous), took some more migraine tablets and then lay me down to sleep, praying hard before I did for the people I care for, for forgiveness, wisdom, strength, healing and help with my interview. I had been trying to mentally prepare all evening, but with the throbbing behind my left eye and my inability to breathe through my nose, I just couldn’t concentrate.

Not wanting to risk extra drowsiness or inability to wake in the morning, I decided against taking Night Nurse and hoped my tiredness would be enough to keep me asleep through the night. I eventually drifted off and dreamt horrible dreams about natural disasters, being caught up in a tsunami and the end of the world approaching, then being unsuccessful for the other job I had applied for and waking up in a cold sweat, shivering. I closed the window and pulled an extra blanket over me to try and get warm and managed to fall back to sleep. I woke again later, still cold, still feeling a pain behind my eye, somewhat anxious about my interview and that I would wake on time. I woke when my alarm went off at 6.30am, but ended up sleeping until 7.30am. I got up and got ready in good time, making tea and stocking up on fruit and chocolate-chip brioche rolls for breakfast before leaving.

I could still feel the dull throbbing in my head and ate two bananas on the train to line my stomach in case I needed to take more tablets. My brain was fuzzy and I was getting more and more anxious realising that I was really not prepared, nor was I feeling capable, for this interview. I read the Word For Today on the way, which talked about there being a time for everything, for smiles and for sorrow. I smiled as tears started to well up in my eyes, feeling reassured that I don’t have to berate myself for experiencing the roller-coaster of emotions that I do, and that “sorrow is better than laughter: for in sadness the heart is made better” (Ecclesiastes 7:3). I continued to pray, knowing that I felt completely incapable and rather nervous and asking God that if He wanted this job for me, that He would just work it out, because there was no way I could do it by myself in this state of mind. Thankfully, I wasn't feeling quite as sarcastic and negative as yesterday!

I read over the job description and person specification on the bus, but was still not feeling confident, so tried to formulate ideas in my mind while continuing to pray. I arrived at work at 9.20am, ate my brioche, read over my notes and then answered a few emails while waiting for 10.00am to arrive. I got a text from Lolly and good luck wishes from Boss Lady and Mini Me and then reported to the Office Manager for my pre-interview test. The test was relatively easily, responding to an email query regarding a student appeal, which required me to assess the regulations relating to the procedure and advise the student accordingly. Thankfully, expressing myself in writing is not one of my weak points.

I finished the task, emailed it to the Office Manager and then returned to my desk. I was called into the interview room 5 or 10 minutes later, still praying that God would calm my fears and anxieties and would give me the right words to say. Once I was in there, He did so, as I didn’t feel too nervous and answered the questions as best I could, maintaining eye contact and smiling. I knew I could have answered better on a few of them, but mostly I was just glad I didn’t completely go blank and was happy that it was over.

Once finished, I went to the toilets to change from my smart skirt suit into my jeans (for genes) so I wouldn’t continue to stick out like an obvious interview candidate amidst the sea of denim. I kept my heels on though, just for a change. I need some extra height just to balance out this huge mass of hair. That’s that, over and done with. Now I just need to get through the rest of the day until the weekend begins…