Letting it slip through my fingers...

…Not only did I let “it” slip through my fingers, but my fingers were splayed apart to allow it ease of passage, whilst I bade it farewell and the hope that it has a good journey whilst slipping right out of my grasp.

The “it” I am referring to is a job interview I recently had. Now I’m the kind of person who only applies for jobs when I think I have a VERY good chance of getting it otherwise I don’t see the point of spending 5 hours filling in an application form if I’m not even going to get an interview. My mum on the other hand has an “apply for everything” philosophy which quite frankly I abhor, and has often resulted in a few heated debates between us, mainly revolving around my future in the world of work.

However here was a job that we both actually agreed on, it was a teaching assistant post in a nursery for a child with special needs. This job had everything, my mum worked there a few days a week so she knew the staff, it was a mere 10 minutes away from my house, it was only 10 hours per week, it was a temporary position, our team leader for my other job also works there and she would be giving a reference for me, and it was with a child with special needs which fitted in perfectly with my degree. It was the perfect job and I knew I was in with a good chance, as it only required basic qualifications, so I applied not caring that it took me 5 hours to fill in the application form as I knew I would get an interview.

There was a huge response for the position and out of the 30 applicants I was one of the four who were short listed and invited to an interview. The interview went really well, my responses received approving nods and once the interview was over the interviewers were curious about my degree and my heritage (lol). I thought that must have been a good sign as they wanted to know more about me as a person and I left the interview with a spring in me step and a smile on my face. However looking at my phone I was surprised that the interview barely lasted 20 minutes but I pushed that to the back of my mind I was in too good a mood to think about silly little things like that.

Two hours later at point where me and my sister were browsing around the Arndale centre I received THE call, I could immediately tell from the tone of the head teacher’s voice that I hadn’t received the job, she apologised to me and offered to give me some feedback which I graciously accepted: the reason for my rejection, I hadn’t put enough detail in some of my answers. I flashed back to the time on my phone. “I know you had the knowledge but you just could have elaborated on your answers abit more” I sensed sincere regret in her voice. I was gutted, I mean it wasn’t as if it was something that I didn’t have, like a qualification or the right work experience or something it was a stupid mistake that could have been easily rectified. The next day my mum was working at said nursery and told me that the headteacher was apologising for not giving me the job, and that it would have been great to have me working there…At that moment I had to fight back the tears, I had no one to blame but myself…