The events that happened in the process of getting my first official job came to me this past weekend.
Two years ago before I got my former place of employment, I applied for a position I was unenthusiastic about and to a company that had a sketchy profile. I really needed a job and I couldn’t think of another contingent plan.
Unknown to me, while I was fixated on the pros and cons of shooting my shot at an undesirable position/company, a preferred appointment was on the works for me. Only I had to get to the interview venue first and then qualify. The despised job position, interview venue and the nature of the interview made it more challenging than it should.
At the time, it was the month that superseded the completion of my Youth Service program. I had gone four months already without an allowance (although I had an unpaid job as a home assistant/ PA non-volunteer to the Minister of my Home Affairs, if you understand what I mean). I wasn’t getting any unemployment benefits from home or the government. Joblessness had started to seduce the hidden bitterness out of me. So I had to do what I had to do.
I applied for understated positions, along with the ones I was interested in. And then thereafter I was called for an interview.
What Happened At the Job Interview Venue
The day arrived for the interview and I slipped on my plainest corporate clothing and saddest shoes. The kinds you’d reserve for a church counseling visit but not a CEOs Association Committee meeting. If there’s any such. The thoughts about the interview depressed me.
The position available that I was to be interviewed for, had me feeling like I was disappointing my Alma Mata. It was a good position, perhaps, but I knew I could try better. You know, “reach for the stars”. Someone confirmed this months after while I was on a job, that it was either of two reasons: I didn’t search better or I didn’t pray harder. Maybe, but there could be a lot more reasons a job applicant wouldn’t be able to help, that would limit their options.
As much as i tried to, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was underselling my skills and abilities. I couldn’t not take the interview because I had to personally justify that my dampening situation of ungainful employment wasn’t because I wasn’t putting efforts at scoring a placement. At the least, I needed to have that aura of attemptability. Also, it was the first seemingly meaningful position I was being called for, after having distributed slash submitted slash scattered my resumé around. So I felt I shouldn’t ungratefully turn it down.
Preceding that time, the idea behind applying for positions I wasn’t passionate about, was not about improving my options only. I sought to experience what I like to call an interview practice. I felt I needed to prepare myself orally and attitudinally at an interview process. Kind of like, work my cognition and discernment up, observe the way I could react. So I’d be better equipped and perform excellenté at the job interview of the position of my dreams. Which I had also applied for.
My first thought as I walked into the venue was, “Who let the gates of heaven open?”. There were humans at every corner. It appeared as though they called all the job applicants in the country. Quite disappointedly, if I may add, as much as I detested having to attend the interview, that the job position wasn’t crazy about letting me have it was even more disheartening.
I was mentally infuriated. It took only the thought of “expended finances” to keep me from reversing home. My transportation fares to the venue (and possibly back home) needed to be validated. I wasn’t going to lose money I didn’t have for nothing. So I stayed put, and tried to maneuver through the crowd.
I left my home in an attempt to look disguised and underwhelming in appearance. But I realized at the venue that I looked more “interview worthy” than a lot of those around. Dear Lord, the places we find ourselves at desperate situations. I had a blazer attached to my waist which I had to quickly clothe on. This was so i could complete the act of separating myself from the crowd, and assume a deserved superiority gait.
Even though everything in me told me to skidaddle out of the premises and not embarrass myself by contending with these other lot (I can be kind of proud at certain times). Honestly that wasn’t even an option because I had to leave my house super early to make the journey to the premises. That had to be validated also.
So I snuck my way through the crowd, politely sat at some space and fumbled with my phone. All around was GMAT and Aptitude Tests booklets some active candidates were skimming through and I felt disgust. I wasn’t the type to appear at an examination hall doing a last minute revision. Let alone an interview venue for heavens sake. Why were these people this way?
More applicants were springing in and it made me uneasy why they hadn’t started the interviewing process already. It was an hour past the slated time. Also for reason so they could accommodate the ever increasing number. If they could be done interviewing someone, it would be one less person taking up oxygen at the premises.
After what seemed like days later, the interview commenced and I was shocked and dumbfounded by the process. In less than 10seconds, they screened the candidates to a quarter of the number that were present. They didn’t say more than a word to each. Each interviewer at the head of the room would stretch and point a finger at someone, and trumpet “LEAVE”.
I’ll describe the entire process in a next post!