Virgin on the ridiculous... again

So here I am blogging about my Internet service when I was going to blog all about my interview from Friday.

I was going to tell you all about the amazing struggle I had preparing a presentation in PowerPoint even though I had over a week’s notice to prepare and two clear days to write. I was going to mention how at one point I feared for my sanity when, as expected, my head went in to such a mad scramble on the morning of the interview that I was virtually in tears through the inability to think straight.

I could have told you all about how a very good friend of mine watched me plummet from confidence on the subject to an uncontrollable panic attack when the slides wouldn’t come together. And how he smiled when returning to the house on the day of the interview to find a half eaten bread roll sitting on the table, which, he said, put how my stomach was feeling in to a nutshell.

And I was going to mention my outfit nightmares – from the dress that was way too tight (partly because the flap on the skirt was still sown shut at the back and partly because it was a size too small but the only smart thing I had in my wardrobe), to the heels that were too high, and combined with the tight skirt made the journey to the train station feel like I was on some kind of bad trip where the pavements were getting longer.

I might have even mentioned how, just before leaving the house and already running slightly late, I got the loop of my jacket caught in the top of my dress, and nearly passed out trying to free it.

Or how I was in such a desperate state that I begged the Angels to help me to think straight. And how oddly enough, on the train it seemed to work (with adverts for Aussie hair products reminding me of LIGHT-headedness)

And at some point I might have mentioned that on several occasions before the interview I had been visualising sitting with my sister having a drink afterwards, and receiving a call to say that I had got the job. And how, even though I interviewed on the closing date for applications, that is exactly what happened.

It was going to be the show stopper at the end of my piece.

Except that my bloody internet is down.

So after a lot of turning things off and on, rebooting the computer, unplugging the router, I gave Virgin a call and went through their automated menu.

I was initially impressed, because the automated menu does everything to confirm who you are, check your account details and record exactly what part of their service you are having an issue with. I pressed various buttons to confirm that, yes, it was a problem accessing wireless internet, and that yes, I had already unplugged the hub and rebooted my computer. I even pressed numbers on the phone corresponding to my password to confirm my authenticity.

So at this point I kind of expected to go straight through to someone who a) knew who I was and b) was aware of what problem I was experiencing with their service.

Yeah, right.

“Hello can I help you?”

“Yes, I have problems connecting to my Internet”

“Is this a wireless or wired connection, ma’am?”

“Errm…. Wireless, like the button I just pressed in your menu system”

“And what is your account number?”

WTF?? “I would give you my account number if I had access to the Internet, but I don’t. And your menu system has just spent ten minutes confirming who I am, so I was hoping that you would have some information there?”

“Can you then give me your phone number, ma’am?”

*sigh*

The call took a long time. The analyst insisted that I switch off the hub all over again, and reboot my computer (which took forever).

Then he deduced it must be a problem with the hub and asked me if this was the first time I had used the service.

Do they not give their Help Desk staff any information to work with???

Eventually after a series of long pauses which told me that he was completely out of his depth in resolving the issue, he deduced that there was an outage in the area.

No, really? I swear, watching the little globe on my network flash on and off like a f**king Christmas tree light had never given me that impression.

“It will be fixed by 8pm tonight” he said confidently. “I will give you a call to confirm when the service is fixed”. It was ten to eight. First rule of thumb when working on a help desk: don’t make promises that you cannot keep. I thought that it was more likely that he was knocking off work at eight and that therefore he wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath.

Anyhow, at this time of writing (8am), the internet is still down and after another call to Virgin it is confirmed that it will be out for the rest of the day.

I can’t wait for the service to be back up again so that I can start responding to all of my emails – specifically that one from Virgin, entitled “We’d love to hear from you!!”

Oh no you wouldn’t. Truly. But you’re going to anyway.

A little bit of history repeating...

Oo, I've never liked interviews.

Don't get me wrong - I fully understand the purpose of interviews. The company wants to find the right person for the job. I get that. But can't we all just be a little more friendly about it? I mean, do I have to prove that I am capable as well as funny, chatty and friendly?

It doesn't matter how much I prepare, I never get asked the darned competency-based questions that I was prepared for, and for the life of me I cannot think on the spot. Instead of pausing for a second to find the right answer, or stalling for time by saying "I'm sorry, could you clarify what you mean?" (at which point they say "Yes, Ms Rookie, are you thirsty and would you like some water?") I go completely blank and start talking at the same time. I open my mouth at the start of what I think might be a really good example, and then I keep talking until I make my point or can see the whites of their eyes. Whichever comes sooner.

Anyhow. A few months ago I was contacted - nay - Head Hunted - by a chapI had interviewed with six months before. "It's a much higher level role" he said, "I think it's far more suited to your skills - no technical requirements this time"

I felt excited. And very flattered. "We want to fill the role very quickly" he said, "Can you call me asap for a chat?" I rang. We chatted. It was all very relaxed.

"I haven't "managed" people before" I said, "but I've lead a team"

"Well, we all have to start somewhere" he replied. It all sounded rather promising. And the salary was to die for. I started to daydream about the flat I would rent and the clothes I would buy. And having a fully paid off credit card.

The interview was arranged for the following Monday. "Less of an interview, more of a chat, probably" was the promise "And you haven't met Mark either, and he might have a couple of questions"

I turned up at 5:30 after a full day at work, feeling very ropey. I'd been trying to shake off a rather nasty bug for a couple of weeks and had spent most of the day wanting to sleep under my desk. But that's okay, because this is going to be more of a chat. They've met me already, and I am being Head Hunted. I was relaxed.

Too relaxed, as it turned out. It was the most gruelling interview of my entire life. Mark didn't want to ask a couple of questions. Oh no. Mark wanted to put me through the wringer. After half an hour I wanted the ground to swallow me up as I clawed my way through each unprepared rambling answer. After an hour I wanted to stop the questions and say "You know what, guys, I think that you and I both know that I'm not who you are looking for".

Perhaps they were just giving me 'another chance' to demonstrate my skills. And instead I just dug myself deeper and deeper, finally nailing the lid on the coffin with the answer that I could be available within a week. Like, hello? Yes, they were looking for the role to be filled very soon, but were expecting people to provide at least one month's notice...

*sigh*

I consoled myself with the knowledge that there has to be a reason for this event in my life. Nothing happens without a reason.

The reason has just arrived.

A few weeks ago I was kind of Head Hunted for a role with a company I interviewed for last summer. This role is much more aligned to your skills, my former interviewer said, no technical stuff this time. If you're interested we'd love to see you again.

Yeah, yeah. Thought you would catch me all relaxed, did you?

Less Talk, More Action

The voice is back. Kind of. Enough to speak to my sister this morning, and enough to point out to my landlady that I thought that the new filter on her fish tank might be on too high a level, considering that every five seconds one of the four fishes was being blown sideways from one end of the tank to the other. Very visually amusing, but not much fun for the fish.

So my voice is different, and I believe that my words will be different too. It is only over the past couple of days, not being able to express every banal thought that entered my head, or contribute MY own experience to every conversation, that I have realised how many words I have wasted. I thought for a moment that I had exceeded my quota for this lifetime. Perish the thought.

Each of the meetings with my teacher I have wanted to focus on talking about me, me, me. MY process, MY experiences, MY thoughts. Okay, sure, let me hear about the energy of the week/month/holiday, just as long as we can quickly cover the latest of the dramas currently taking place in my life. I'll trade you. Through the Ego Workshop, I identified that I held a lot of Judgement - I compare myself to other people, judging them by my standards and myself by their achievements. And I look for recognition or approval from other people because I'm not certain that I am actually enough.

I am looking for my fulfilment in external things rather than building it from within. That explains a little why I like to try so many different, crazy things to make myself appear more interesting (white water rafting, land-yachting, bungee jumping, elephant riding, scuba diving, mountain trekking, skiing, flying a plane, flying a glider, water-skiing, trampolining) and why there is nothing more exhilarating than riding the biggest, fastest, wildest rollercoaster. (Aren't I fun? Aren't I daring? Do you like me now? Do you want to hear about the time I handled a tarantula or played with a meerkat?)

Unexpectedly, the need for external fulfilment now appears to have wained slightly, or perhaps something is just stronger within. Pesach seems to have spun an internal miracle.

By being silent for nearly three days, I painfully realised how many times I have paid lip service to what I was going to do, and avoided actually doing anything. I recognised that whilst I felt devoid of the recognition I felt I deserved from my teacher for 'working so hard on my process', that actually, what I have achieved isn't quite enough yet. And I don't mean that in a judgemental way, just in understanding that instead of wanting brownie points for generating my own inner miracles, I have to keep plugging away, doing more, listening more, applying myself more, learning more. And talking less.

Yesterday I received the outcome on the interview from last Thursday - I didn't get the job. They didn't think that my technical skills were good enough, they wanted somebody who could immediately get up to speed. Unable to even voice my frustration, I choked back some bitter tears. I know that I could have got up to speed really quickly. That job was meant for me - simply by the way it came to me. I thought I had done so well.

Later in the day, I re-read the email. And actually, it was quite polite. She said I would be an asset to their team, and that they would keep my CV on file. She said she would keep me in mind for any database roles. Once I took my pride out of the loop, I could see how they would want somebody with technical skills who could add to the role, rather than somebody who would spend the first few weeks with smoke coming out of her ears, trying to translate the syntax for every query.

Of course - because at the interview, for some bizarre reason (trying to show the best interest in the role I was interviewing for) I stated that training on a full time basis quickly became boring and I preferred the support roles. Like, duh. A bit of a silly thing to say, given that I know they have a training based role (which I would much rather do) coming up in the near future.

So, what were my choices? I could either believe that everything she said in the email was a lie and that she simply didn't like me, and walk the other way. Or I could email her and explain what I was really looking for, and possibly re-open a door. And I could properly revise my CV and seriously start looking for work elsewhere.

And when I am making the real effort and taking real action, the rewards are going to be much bigger than a few words of recognition from my teacher.

The Silence is Deafening - but only for me...

So - my second Pesach last night. A LOT of fun. Lots of singing, lots of downing glasses of wine, lots of clapping, lots of getting confused with the Seder plate.

The first challenge was to move outside my comfort zone - my friends were in San Diego and I hadn't arranged to meet anyone there. It's a funny thing, because last year I went to most events as a 'stranger' and I felt quite used to turning up on my own. And now as I have formed my own friendships, I feel a little bit lost when they are not there.

The loneliness lasted all of five minutes - as soon as I sat down I got chatting to a couple of people, and the rest, as they say, was history.

And after 40 minutes, so was my voice. I'm not sure at which point my voice disappeared, but by the time I reached the dinner table it was no longer there. The best I can managed is a hoarse croak (or should that be a husky murmur?)

This meant that much of the time I spent listening rather than talking. Perhaps that was my challenge. Perhaps the 'Light' wanted me to hear certain things that I wouldn't have been able to capture with my mouth open (which I did). Or perhaps God is saying 'Oh for goodness sakes woman, just give everyone else's ears a rest for a change'. Either way, I had little choice. And apart from driving each person nuts at least twice by explaining I had lost my voice, which due to my broken dulcet tones was entirely unnecessary (hey, I did drink four glasses of wine, down in one, three of them on an empty stomach) I think most people appreciated that unless we were singing (or drinking wine), my jaw was clamped firmly shut.

And my voice is still absent this morning - a blessed relief for all concerned.

There is just one teensy problem. The woman who interviewed me last week said that she would get back to me on Friday. She didn't. So I lasted out the weekend and decided that she would get in touch yesterday. She didn't.

I have to admit, all manner of thoughts have been going through my head, from 'she's busy' to 'do I smell, or something?' to 'well, how incredibly rude. The least that she could do is let me know either way' to 'maybe they are interviewing other people and lining me up for another role' to 'maybe they are interviewing other people and have decided not to touch me with a barge pole'

Whatever their decision, you have to admit, it doesn't look promising. I mean, they're not exactly snapping my hand off, are they? So here I am with my pride a tad dented - feeling rather buoyant after the interview, that I could not fail in getting the job, that they would ring me first thing in the morning and say 'Yes, you would add enormous value to our company. when can you start?' - wondering now which bit of me they didn't like, if any.

So I should call. It's the grown up thing to do. Touch base with them, remind them of my interest in working for their company. Except that I have no voice. So I can't.

Silence all round.

Naff and cowardly as it seems, I'm going to have to send an email instead. And then crack on with re-writing my CV. In silence.

Entering with an Army, leaving with a smile

Yes, I've been a bit quiet on the blogging front for the past couple of days. And despite someone throwing a petrol bomb at the front of the flats I live in (hence the police cordon) I am still in one piece. All is quiet on the western front.

Or maybe I just haven't noticed, due to being completely absorbed with preparing for an interview.

I had a brief phone interview last week where I was given details of the job, which involves supporting SQL Based applications. Yeah, I can do that, I thought. I used to run queries all of the time, generating reports. Okay, so not actually in SQL, but on a relational database. Okay, so not actually building queries that join tables, but I understand the concept and the technical knowledge - oh, that just comes so naturally to me. If you looked at my DNA under a microscope, instead of ADGT, you would see little building blocks of TSQL.

"Excellent" said my potential interviewer "We'd love you to come in for an interview, and we'll also give you a SQL Syntax test to see what you know"

"Great", I replied "and who knows, I might even surprise myself on that one"

And so I was feeling fairly confident, verging on cocky. Until I started reading through the online training manuals, that is.

Crap - I don't remember any of this stuff.

So I studied. And I pored. And I took notes. And I invented queries to test myself. And every time I thought I had mastered a subject and returned to it to test my knowledge, I went blank. Not only that, but I was also trying to prepare for the interview itself.

I like interviews like a cat loves a hot bath. After practising a few standard responses (strengths, weakness (who, me?), why I want to work for them, etc) I looked at the competency based questions, (Tell me about a time where you had to solve a really difficult problem. What steps did you take and what was the outcome?) and turned pale because I had gone totally blank once again. I decided that ignorance was bliss and that I would have to trust that on the day everything would turn out for the best.

And today was the day. And it was a nice day. Until half an hour before I had to leave the house, when it starting raining cats and dogs - which was fine until I realised that I had left my umbrella elsewhere. I prayed for the rain to stop. It didn't. I left the house wearing a scarf over my hat and coat, and my nice leather 'business wallet' in a Sainsbury's carrier bag. Cute.

I arrived fifteen minutes early and rang my teacher, as arranged. Now, you may think that this is a strange thing to do when your mind should be set on the immediate task at hand, but I trust in the benefits. My teacher read a portion of the Zohar to me over the phone. "We want you to go in there with an Army." He said. Luckily for me, listening to the Aramaic is enough to receive a download. Suitably charged, I went in to battle.

I was introduced to one of my interviewers and taken in to a small room to sit the SQL Test.

"I have to say, we are still working on this and it's not quite right" he said. "I find some of the questions really hard and I'm a programmer. So just write like fury and do what you can."

Oh, fab.

There were 15 questions. I answered 3 of them partially, and one of them fully. Then I had a stab at writing a few notes on how I would answer question 6. Oddly enough, rather than turning pale and panicking, I laughed. Even the bits of syntax that I was sure that I knew I forgot - so, like, whatever. What I knew was that in the Real World, I would be able to pull all of this together without a hitch. In the Real World, there is something miraculous called 'Online Help', and I am rather good at knowing where to look.

The interview itself went well. The people are nice, the company is very authentic - I would enjoy working there. (Two people after the interview have asked me how many others they were seeing for the role. You know what? That's irrelevant - either I am the best person for the job, or I am not. Either I am meant to be there, or something else is coming).

I was asked multiple competency based questions and again, rather than panic at my total lack of preparation, I simply paused and waited for the words to come. And come they did. I had a lot of help on my side - a pretty good set of troops were at hand. I also had the opportunity to demonstrate my actual knowledge of SQL, by covering the questions on the test and explaining the parts that I couldn't complete. They seemed happy enough.

Anyhow, I will discover the outcome tomorrow. Have I convinced them? I don't know - but I am very happy with how it went. I left feeling light, and with a smile on my face.

In the subway entrance to the tube station, I saw a shabby man sitting cross-legged on the stairs, begging. My instant reaction was "oh I can't be done with this... With all of the build up and what I have done today, I just want to get the train home and eat. I'm not going to dig around in my purse and give him money"and I crossed to the other side of the rail and walked past him.

And as I walked past, I noticed that he was shivering deeply, and huddled over a sign which read "no home or job. Please help me if you can"

An argument started in my head - one voice telling me that I shouldn't be a muppet and give money to beggars, and that it was too late to turn back now - people would think I was mad, or stupid, or both. But the other voice was saying 'How can you just walk past this man? He is a human being, and however he got here, he has feelings too. You might be feeling like your life is on the up - but how can you forget how you were feeling a couple of weeks ago?'

So, halfway down the next set of steps, I stopped and turned back. I was homeless for a while, but I always had a roof over my head. I always knew where my next meal was coming from. Where is his next meal coming from?

I crouched in front of him, amidst the busy commuters, all dying to get home and make dinner, and asked him whether he wanted a coffee. He did. White with sugar. And I bought him a sandwich and a brownie to go with it. His gratitude was genuine and touching - reward enough to me in itself. It put my day in to perspective, my so-called hardships in the shade.

"You're an angel" he said, "an absolute angel."

No, I'm no angel. But I had my army with me.

In the thick of it

Life is becoming more interesting by the day. I'm not sure whether the 'hood is going through a bad patch at the moment, or whether it was going through a good patch when I first moved in.

Or perhaps the Universe is just providing me with too many distractions, given that I am procrastinating over two seemingly vital tasks at the moment.

The first is preparing for an interview due at some point this week. I have spent the last six months 'trying' to set up my own business purely to avoid having to justify myself in an interview. I cannot bear the rotten things. "Tell me a time when you solved a difficult problem that required the input of others. How did you go about this and how did you measure the results?" Oh, I don't know, it was all so long ago now.

So I'm reading the questions and thinking 'oh yes, I could probably answer that one' but when I try to practice an answer out loud, some little gremlin comes in and wipes my memory. The mouth moves but not a lot comes out save for 'Uhhm' Not very impressive.

Secondly, the interview involves a test on SQL code. Even in my last role performing relational database queries, I was not using SQL. Luckily I have an online manual to hand. If only any of the syntax would stick. Just when I think I can write a particular function, I look back on something simple like selecting from a table and find that I can recall diddley-squat.

I find myself flipping between tasks and getting nowhere.

Then, of course, as I have been working hard over the past few months on Letting Go of the past, I also appear to have let go of quite a few pounds. So much so, that the trousers for my suit no longer fit. I have to buy a new suit, which means leaving the interview prep for a few hours. Valuable time that although I am clearly not using, I cannot afford to waste.

As if I am not throwing enough rocks in my path, my neighbourhood has decided to add to the distraction.

Last Sunday when I hired a van and moved my stuff in, the street was deserted and quiet. Whereas yesterday was mayhem. What sounded like gangs of kids patrolled the streets, chanting in unison, playing team games which were verging on riots. Somewhere down the road a party was going on. Or maybe someone just fancied blaring out their music loud enough to be heard at the stadium on the other side of White Hart Lane station.

Either it simply wasn't my kind of music, or I am getting old. Oh this modern music - it's just noise to me. BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM WAIL WAIL BOOM. Repeated over and over and over.

In addition to this, given the number of air horns honking for long periods late afternoon, I think there was a football match this weekend. Add that to the regular bursts of police sirens, and it's quite the place to be.

Whatever my excuse, I didn't get an awful lot done.

And so the plan for this morning was to catch up. To focus. To feel more confident at the end of the day. To have my suit in the wardrobe ready to transform me in to a modern professional at a moment's notice.

And again, my focus has wained, and I have found myself flitting between tasks out of fear, when really, it's all so simple: I'm fabulous, give me a job.

The street has been relatively quiet compared to yesterday, with the exception of what sounded like a crazed drug addict screaming his head off and smashing lots of glass outside at around 11am.

So I have no excuse for my lack of progress, but still think that I will feel better once I have bought my new suit. So I start to get ready and glance outside on to the street 4 floors below... and find that leaving the front door is going to be slightly tricky, mainly for the reason that the front door is in the middle of a crime scene, cordoned off with 'POLICE CRIME SCENE DO NOT ENTER' tape.

Oo-kay. So, where was I? Oh yes...

"Tell me about yourself"

"My name is Kabbalah Rookie and I have over six years experience in an IT Service Support environment....."