Seconds away! Round...
For all my yearnings for self-determination in the autumn of my working life, I have been fortunate enough to have been offered a job.
After spending eight months submitting at least two applications per week when I got a message inviting me to attend an interview I didn't immediately remember having applied for it! When I did, I remembered it was the first application I'd submitted along with an edited CV that I hoped would make me seem as nonthreatening as I could (lol). Mind you, in the mean time I'd missed out on a couple of jobs where I was confident of at least an interview. I'd written them with the same restyling and I know the person running one of them. To be fair: although that job was about arts development in communities and increasing participation; in which I have excelled, it was specifically about live music. I have supported musicians as part of the job where I first encountered the guy behind this job, but it is obvious that my specialism is theatre and live performance.
So... The new gig... Well, not unlike the Lesbian and Gay Centre, it isn't exactly a particularly sought-after post. After making the offer some of the... difficulties of the establishment were revealed. I realised something was amiss when I began to work on the almost mandatory 15 minute "presentation" they demanded. I became slightly obsessed by finding information about this public building that almost seemed to have been hidden. I began to feel like I didn't want the job, but or because of that, I put together a well-researched piece. I started my presentation by pointing out that it wasn't possible to give the answer they'd requested without specific info I'd not been able to find, so what I was giving was based on assumptions which I explained and logical forecasts.
It turned out that I got on very well with the guys who interviewed me. We seemed surprisingly synched and they shared observations about the public sector employer that I shared. It was made clear that should I get the job it would be up to me (within legal, moral, decency boundaries etc) to do what I thought would work there. As excited as I was by that, I thought I spied a speck of desperation. Having said that, they seemed to actually like me and complemented my enthusiasm and thoroughness as they'd not anticipated more than some general "I would do this"-type suggestions in my presentation. That spurred me to share the "out there" Idea I'd had, to gauge their horror responses but they seemed keen. So I left with a horrible feeling of actually wanting to be offered the job. That was more vulnerable than having actually got to the end of the stock of dry pulses in the back of the cupboard and hibernating in my house wishing all the people wanting more of my social security payments than I actually receive would miraculously disappear. It was a tense weekend and then I got the call.
It being a public sector employer, there's a shitload of slightly tedious paperwork to be sorted: references, I need to bring my passport, degree, A Level exam certificates, I need to change the insurance on my car and prove it, certify the number of days I've been off sick in the last two years <sigh>. At least It will give me time to look at the... issues.
It will take me about 40 minutes to drive to work and a detour on the way back took me to Leadgate where I've helped my friend to get through a scheme that allows people on state benefits to start enterprises. [The present government closed it on 01/04/17]. My friend had an horrific accident at the Engine Shed a few days before but was staying with a friend in her nice house to recuperate rather than camping out at the shed. He had been using a rotary saw. The first I knew of it was the receipt of a snapchat picture of my friend's hand with a good inch long gash along the wrist exposing severed tendons, blood vessels and bloody flesh. As shocked as I was I was furious: I'm the pussy-boy-administrator with no practical experience so when I see these Real Men" using power tools in the casual way they do down there I FREAK OUT and they laugh at me. I was hoping that this might have had an impact on him as he's since had plastic surgery and microsurgery and its not 100% certain he'll regain 100% use of his thumb but when I spoke with him he was adamant it was just one of those things.
So... The new gig... Well, not unlike the Lesbian and Gay Centre, it isn't exactly a particularly sought-after post. After making the offer some of the... difficulties of the establishment were revealed. I realised something was amiss when I began to work on the almost mandatory 15 minute "presentation" they demanded. I became slightly obsessed by finding information about this public building that almost seemed to have been hidden. I began to feel like I didn't want the job, but or because of that, I put together a well-researched piece. I started my presentation by pointing out that it wasn't possible to give the answer they'd requested without specific info I'd not been able to find, so what I was giving was based on assumptions which I explained and logical forecasts.
It turned out that I got on very well with the guys who interviewed me. We seemed surprisingly synched and they shared observations about the public sector employer that I shared. It was made clear that should I get the job it would be up to me (within legal, moral, decency boundaries etc) to do what I thought would work there. As excited as I was by that, I thought I spied a speck of desperation. Having said that, they seemed to actually like me and complemented my enthusiasm and thoroughness as they'd not anticipated more than some general "I would do this"-type suggestions in my presentation. That spurred me to share the "out there" Idea I'd had, to gauge their horror responses but they seemed keen. So I left with a horrible feeling of actually wanting to be offered the job. That was more vulnerable than having actually got to the end of the stock of dry pulses in the back of the cupboard and hibernating in my house wishing all the people wanting more of my social security payments than I actually receive would miraculously disappear. It was a tense weekend and then I got the call.
It being a public sector employer, there's a shitload of slightly tedious paperwork to be sorted: references, I need to bring my passport, degree, A Level exam certificates, I need to change the insurance on my car and prove it, certify the number of days I've been off sick in the last two years <sigh>. At least It will give me time to look at the... issues.
It will take me about 40 minutes to drive to work and a detour on the way back took me to Leadgate where I've helped my friend to get through a scheme that allows people on state benefits to start enterprises. [The present government closed it on 01/04/17]. My friend had an horrific accident at the Engine Shed a few days before but was staying with a friend in her nice house to recuperate rather than camping out at the shed. He had been using a rotary saw. The first I knew of it was the receipt of a snapchat picture of my friend's hand with a good inch long gash along the wrist exposing severed tendons, blood vessels and bloody flesh. As shocked as I was I was furious: I'm the pussy-boy-administrator with no practical experience so when I see these Real Men" using power tools in the casual way they do down there I FREAK OUT and they laugh at me. I was hoping that this might have had an impact on him as he's since had plastic surgery and microsurgery and its not 100% certain he'll regain 100% use of his thumb but when I spoke with him he was adamant it was just one of those things.
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