Why I suck at getting to Interviews

It has already been established that I wear the wrong things to interviews.

This week I have added to my crap interviewee repertoire by being really quite shite at getting to the interviews in the first place.

If an employee turned up to an interview with you 7 minutes late, you wouldn’t be impressed would you? You would think that this was a poor indication of my general state of time keeping and attitudes wouldn’t you?

Of course you would and so would I.

Question:      Why is it that I managed to be 7 minutes late to 2 interviews this week?

Answer:         A tuna sandwich, a dress and Google Maps.

The Minx started at pre-school last week. Actually the Minx started at two pre-schools last week. One pre-school is 4 minutes walk away. The other pre-school is 50 minutes walk away. I had to take pre-school places that I could get where I could get them so that I could guarantee flexibility for attending job interviews and actually working at jobs.

Having two separate pre-schools involves getting my head round two separate routines. 4 Minutes Walk Away Preschool has a door entry code, a particular space for children’s bags, the requirement that kids bring their own sheets, a bucket for morning tea, a bucket for water bottles, two spaces in the fridge for lunch and afternoon tea. “We suggest” say the directors “that you bring sandwich bags clearly marked with your child’s name”.  The reckless use of sandwich bags (unless these are paper) offends my recycling sensibilities.

The 50 Minutes Walk Away Pre-School has a Fruit Bucket and an Morning Tea Bucket and a Water Bottle Bucket and an Everything Else Goes in the Fridge Rule.  It’s all too confusing. Confusing to the extent that on the day that I had two interviews I completely forgot to bring my daughter’s lunch sandwich to 4 Minutes Away Pre-School. It was sitting in some zip-lock bag or other in the fridge and my brain did not recognise where it belonged.

I dropped the Minx off and then headed home to get the sandwich (in bag) and then trotted back round to the 4 Minutes Walk Away Pre-School again and from there trotted back to my house. By this time I was sweating and anxisous and thought it wise to get myself under the shower.

The chap who I was going to see owns a gym. He is Scottish, ex-Army, calls you ‘mate’ a lot in a growly way and had told me at great length why he’d just sacked a useless person who had, among other things. been late to classes. Growly man had also made it clear that he didn’t want me to take a trial class, he just wanted to get a look at me. In the fitness industry just wanting to look at you is a euphemism for saying I want to know if my clients will pay to get an arse/legs/pair of arms like yours. Sad but true.

So with this in mind, I choose a body con dress with high heels.

Dress by Wish| Opaques by Pretty Polly via UK Tights| Black| Black D'Orsay Pumps by Bertie

After I had chosen the dress and put it on, I wondered whether I should just change back into a corporate outfit. That moment of doubt cost me an express train to the city.

I turned up 7 minutes late and I heard the Growly Man barking at someone in the gym. This meant that I’d stuffed it – his unspoken message was clear:

“You are late for a meeting with me and my time is money.”

The first thing that he said to me was: “You’re seven minutes late“. It was also the fifth, seventh, eleventh and last thing that he said to me in the interview. It didn’t surprise me when he wrote to me later in the day thanked me for my time and wished me luck in my job search.

Having kids means that quite often you will be late for things, forget things, turn up to important things with food in your hair. In other words, it is probably just as well I was late because it saved me working for someone who was bound to get monumentally pissed off with me sooner or later.

But armed with the lateness stress of the earlier interview I decided that for Interview Number 2 of the day I would pitch a wee bit more towards the conservative heel height:

The heel height was perfect. The train was bang on time. I had it all in the bag until I tried to find the cafe where I supposed to meet the interviewer. Google Maps inventor, if you can hear me I HATE YOUR GUTS!  Ever tried putting an address into Google Maps only to be lead around and around an industrial estate for half an hour?? That was me last Monday.

By the time that I go to the interviewers I was dripping copious amounts of sweat into my eyes and had to take my glasses off. I had to keep them off for most of the interview and just hope that I was looking in the general direction of the interviewer’s eyes.

Soft, light cooling dress by Witchery. Cooling unless you run round Darling Harbour.

For interview 3 of the week I undertook considerably  more research into finding my way to the interview by 3.30 pm. This research consisted of trying to find where Darling Quarter was on Google Maps. According to Google Maps, this was well within walking distance of Town Hall Station. Well, it would have been if Google Maps hadn’t directed me ten minutes south of my actual destination.

I was seven minutes late again.

The next day I decided that I was going to wear two pairs of shoes to the interview – one pair to walk in:

and another pair to wear to the interview.

It was all going quite well until I got to the train station and then I discovered that the inclement weather had delayed all trains by – 7 minutes. The rain was being chucked all over the South Side of Sydney like buckets to swish away vomit at a Scottish football match.

Prada Cut Out Mules

I decided to get a taxi.

Stay tuned to find out if I got any of the jobs that I interviewed for…

Interview Shoe Saves

Shoe Save 81 – Bertie Black Kid D’Orsay High Heeled Pumps. Dress Wish.

Shoe Save 82 – Filipo Raphael Low Heeled Black Court Shoes

Shoe Save 83 – Heavenly Daze Ostrich Skin Stilettos

Shoe Save 84 – Prada Cut Out Mules

Number of Days Left in Which to Save Shoes: 17

Number of Pairs of Shoes Left to Save: 24

4 thoughts on “Why I suck at getting to Interviews

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