Thoughts On Recorded Interviews

They are SHIT.

I had to do a recorded interview today for House of Fraser, and please do not get me twisted here I love that damn shop and it is probably my favourite department store of the ones that I ever went in (John Lewis shot themselves in the foot with the crappy, unfinished abomination in Leeds and the accompanying unnecessarily persistent wine glass touter).

But honestly, apart from interviews where I have quite clearly been passed over for stupid reasons such as "Yes you want the part time hours we've billed but we want someone who doesn't want them as a second job" and also when internal candidates have been chosen despite being less qualified and experienced than me (here's looking at you Wakefield College) that was the worst interview experience of my life.

• You have less than 15 seconds to read and consider the question. 
• You have too long to answer (1m 30s is too long for all these questions). 
• You have no scope to actually reveal what you are like as a person or how you are an excellent provider of good customer service. 
• You CAN'T RE-RECORD THE QUESTIONS APART FROM THE ONE THAT ASKS DO YOU WANT PART TIME OR FULL TIME WHICH ALSO HAS NO LIMIT ON QUESTION READING TIME.

There is a chance that I was just particularly shit at this form of interview despite actually being very together in a face to face interview setting. There is also a chance that this format was concocted purely for the purpose of torturing the interviewee and amusing the sadistic recruitment personnel.

I'm so put out by this that House of Fraser has actually fallen a little in my estimation, not the customer service advisors - no - I think they are actual saintly angels from heaven for completing that bullshit; but the central services team? I simply cannot believe that they have that little time to look through applications and hold phone or Skype interviews.

In short, it's innovative but lacks engagement. Having a web app for interviews makes you seem flashy and like you're not after uniqueness and dedication to customer service after all, because you can't even supply it for your candidates.

I have yoghurt on my face

Not through an inability to eat without smearing food everywhere, but because I made a FACE MASK!

Okay, so it's been on almost 10 minutes and is drying and tightening slightly uncomfortably, and I kind of want to eat my own face but that's just the kind of thing girls do on Sundays right?? RIGHT???!?

That's me tasting my yoghurty face. Damn, I am delicious.

Apparently honey is hydrating and yoghurt is moisturising, now I would have thought that those were the same thing but who am I to thrust judgement upon peoples cheap and delectable skin treatments? My face does feel like it had yoghurt on for 20 minutes, I'm not sure how else to describe that one really.

Yesterday we went to The Collection in Lincoln, it was cool but I got severe 6 year deja vu - having been there once before in 2010 (with him no less) for a university field trip. Now, they're not the biggest museum, and Lincoln isn't the biggest town ever - but I think they've not updated it in 6 years. Which is a long time, even though you're looking at a 602,000 year timeline (thanks homo heidelbergensis) they're covering.

No plans for today, I might get dressed and go window shopping, doesn't hurt to earmark some of my Christmas presents now, even if I can't afford them yet.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed with the job search, I'm well over the 35 application mark now over the past few weeks and my mum, ethereal astral entity that she is may have got me something at Laura Ashley which would be an actual dream.

I forgot I had a blog until just now when I went on Ancestry.com because Twitter told me to to find out the etymology of my last name then remembered I already knew it and it was the link for my blog

Fast forward 3 years.

It is now the year 2016. My mum had cancer, again. I moved to London, I moved back from London. I fell in love, I'm still in love. I had depression, got fired, got a new job, and made myself better, eventually. I saw most of South East Asia. Prince, Alan Rickman, Pete Burns and Gene Wilder died. Britain decided to leave the EU (we've still not got there, not that postponing the inevitable is helping exactly.) Tomorrow either a misogynistic bozo or a deceitful, unpopular lesser of two evils will be elected president of the USA.

A lot has happened since I posted last. Some of it was okay, some good, some decidedly shit. But it's all behind us now, and (head's up blogger bio) I'm pursuing my dream of becoming a conservator. Sure I live in Lincoln, have less than £15 left of my massive overdraft and no job in spite of almost 30 applications, but I'm getting there.

I listened to a Nerdette podcast - the Caitlin Moran one - when I was in Guangzhou airport in August and her advice was to do something every day that got you closer to your dream. Her's was something odd about wearing velvet and schmoozing with Oscar Wilde (fair, I like velvet, and I like 19th century Aestheticism); but mine, blissfully, involved less hobnobbing with dead folks and more cleaning stuff, dissolving bad guys (glue, dirt, corrosion) and making my own cotton buds.

Something is still missing though. I mean I'm with the man of my dreams, I'm doing the course existent in my reveries and we have our own place. It's difficult to rejoice when you have no money and no discernible sign of funds any time soon so it's definitely the job thing dragging us down, but persistence is key I suppose.

Fingers crossed persistence pays off soon. Or I'll be quitting my course.

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