Monday 6th March 2000 – Job hunting, childminder search
I’ve been very busy, no time to write. Where do I begin? Everything has been geared towards me getting work, so I’ll write about that…
Had the interview at Groundbass on the 22nd. It was just one guy talking to me: Fabien, a French guy. We got on really well, he showed me some code in Perl/C++ and somehow I managed to work out what it did. He asked to write some html in hard code, and I did that too. They want someone who is going to learn C++, Perl, JavaScript, Java, and do HTML design. I just know Java and HTML and have basic knowledge of the others. As it is very hard to find someone (specially a graduate) who can be proficient in all of the above, I managed to get a second interview. I found out on that Friday, at 5:30 (I had given up any hope by then, and had even cried, feeling a failure). Groundbass is a very small company, and I was supposed to have my second interview last week, but they have been so busy that they had to delay all interviews to god knows when. I should have had a call today from the agency, but nothing…
In the meantime another agency contacted me last week and arranged an interview with a company called RiverSoft, in South London. I went along last Wednesday, for an open evening. I was extremely nervous, thinking it was all a waste of time, and nearly turned around and came back home before getting there. I started to have what I think was a panic attack on the tube and had to have a word with myself and breathe to calm down. There were about 20 candidates in the room, and I was the only woman… I stayed on a little circle with two other guys and the guys from the company would come over and talk to us. I spoke to 3 different men and after two hours I was tired of repeating myself, and they let us go home, at around 8pm. I didn’t think much of it, as all of the people there seemed to know more than me, plus they hadn’t spent the last year doing nothing much in the way of programming like me. I just came home and put it down as another experience that wouldn’t lead me anywhere.
Then last Friday I got a call from Graeme saying that they wanted to see me on Monday for a final interview and that if they liked me I would get an offer on the spot. There would also be a test (a program in C++) and I would speak to a guy called Barry P. afterwards. I spent the whole of Friday phoning childminders, as if I got the job I would be starting very soon. I got in touch with two sisters (Gill and Tracey) who would share caring for you, as one of them could not do Fridays (Tracey) and the other could ONLY do Fridays (Monday and Wednesday, R. and your granny would do the other two days). They were very nice and we arranged to meet on Monday at 11:30 at Highbury Round House, where there’s a playgroup.
I spent the weekend revising C++ (I forgot how crap I was at it, C++ that is). On Saturday afternoon we drove to where the job was, just for a laugh. I was also thinking of driving there on Monday, but gave up after the Saturday drive: what a nightmare the traffic is in London.
Today we went to the playgroup in the morning (R. came too, just as well otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to talk to the childminders properly). As you haven’t seen that many children together in such a small space before, you went a bit mad. You were running around like a headless chicken. At first you went up to the kids, a little bit shy. Some of them told you to just go away. You got on top of a girl (she was about 4) and she just kicked you away. You refused to cry. A few minutes later you got more daring. You were going after the children, trying to hug them from all angles, from the front, side, behind. You ended up taking them down with you in your enthusiasm, and then pulling their hair and then biting them. I could tell that you were trying to stroke their hair and trying to kiss them, as there was no aggressiveness at all (if anything the some of the other children were aggressive, while others cried, and others just took it on their stride, depending on their age or temper disposition).
One girl approached us as she recognised us from the antenatal class. She had her boy with her and while we were chatting you were trying to snog her son (who is a month older, but about your size). Next thing we know you were on top of the poor child, who was screaming. I pulled you away, she picked her son up, who has a little red mark on his face, and some raised skin around it (like and insect bite). I couldn’t apologise enough, and just walked away in the end, out of embarrassment. R. said that at one point he was talking with Gill and someone came over to say that a little boy had been bitten by another little boy. R. said “I know, it was my son who bit him”. Our first time in there and you are already known as a troublemaker! I was a bit worried about your behaviour but Tracey said that it was perfectly normal and that you’d be fine once you were used to the environment (which should take a few trips to the playgroup). She knows that you’d need more attention at first, but she said she’s seen much worse, at least you were trying to be friendly, some other kids just get really aggressive in that situation, while others go completely shy.
Just before we left you had calmed down a bit and even had some food that Gill had given you. We liked them both and decided that if I got the job this afternoon (which I was sure I would get…) they would be looking after you. The children they look after were also lovely (well, most kids are!).
We came home. I had butterflies in my tummy all morning from the time Graeme phoned me up to say that there were more vacancies than candidates, that the salary was actually £25,000 plus a 20% bonus, which made it £30,000 per year (which is the salary for someone with a couple of years experience) and that if they wanted me they would offer me the job on the spot. They wouldn’t mind if I didn’t do too well on the test as long as my personality fitted with the company. He said “Just be yourself and you’ll be ok”. He was certainly trying to psyche me up, as he probably gets a big fat bonus for every person he gets a job for. While at the playgroup I managed to forget about the interview for at least an hour, as I spent most of the time pulling you away from screaming kids. You even made one of Gill’s kids cry, and she said he’s usually the one who makes other children cry. He is 18 months old. Have we created a monster? At least you don’t lack confidence.
I set off at 2:00, all dolled up, looking my best. I got there 10 minutes early and started on the test. I was supposed to spot 9 mistakes, but spent the 20 minutes trying to understand what the hell the program actually did, which I managed to, sort of. So I just wrote down some comments about what I thought was happening and the fact that I hadn’t done C++ for nearly 2 years. I went into the room where 4 men and a woman sat on the table ready to talk to me. I was there for about 30 minutes “Being myself” whatever that means under those conditions. The point I remember the most was being asked the question by the woman: “How would you resolve a difference of opinion with a colleague” to which I answered: “I would sit down with them and reach a compromise (pause) and if that didn’t work I would ask them outside for a fight.” (many laughs).
One of the guys said “A fight would probably work better”, by then I was getting carried away with myself and said “Which one I’d use would depend on the time of the month, of course”, and that really got them going. I think I even blushed then, because I didn’t expect such a vociferous laughter. To redeem my self-respect as a woman (which I had taken away myself) I said “you know that men are the same, they have their own cycles too”, and I could see the heads shaking in agreement. I said some stupid things too. When asked, again, by the woman, (I can’t remember names) what I had done for the last year, I first said “I like to say I got a PHD on Child Care”. Then I said “I redesigned my web site and wrote a couple of applets”. Later on when explaining how I cannot stand having nothing to do I said the house was the cleanest it had ever been in the last year, to illustrate my point (what a bad example, I should have mentioned the garden, or the driving lessons, or all this writing I’ve been doing).
One of the guys said that in that case I would not like the development room, as it was in a state. I then said that I would probably end up cleaning it! I wish I hadn’t said that, I just sounded like this crazy woman with a compulsive need to clean everything that doesn’t move. Another moment I remember clearly was asking if there were a lot of Italians working there, given the surnames I had come across. They said there were two Italians, and pointed them out in the group, but they were actually American and English, being only half Italian. I said I was the same, Brazilian with an Italian mum. Then Rob, one of the Italians (American) said “But the test of a true Italian is if you cut them whether they bleed blood or tomato sauce! What happens to you when you bleed?”. I said “Oh, I just bleed thick red blood really”, to which another guy said “Oh, I’ve got this really sick image in my head…”. The conversation just went totally surreal there. I just shut up then.
They eventually asked me to leave and wait outside for a while. I met one of the guys who I was talking to on Wednesday and he was doing his test. I said a quick hi to him and went outside. I was called back in by just one of the guys (the nicest one, he has a 15 months old girl). He said they couldn’t decide what to do, so I would have to wait until Friday, when I should get a letter. I was going to say I had been told that I would have been offered the job today, and was that a polite “you haven’t got the job”?. He was saying how they had 5 vacancies for the job that suited me and 7 applicants (which contradicted what Graeme told me).
I told him “Yes, I know what you have to do, weigh in the pros and cons”, when I wanted to say “You haven’t got the heart to say it to my face, so you’ll write to me instead, I wish you’d just tell me now to avoid any further torture”. I asked him where the toilet was and I was going to say “See you”, but I said “Take care” instead. I then sat down with my mate from Wednesday and told him how I thought I didn’t get the job and he said how he’d seen another guy from that night (which was having his interview before me and we spoke briefly, as he was called back straight away after coming out – i.e. they liked him so much they probably just nodded yes to each other and rushed to get him in) and they were asking him about his P45. That just confirmed the fact that I hadn’t got the job. Anyway we had a chat, I got his e-mail so he could let me know how he’d done, I wished him luck and left.
I felt so awful. What had let me down? They asked me how I would cope with the long hours (I don’t want a job with long hours), and I asked what kind of long hours (given the fact that I have a son), and there was mention of a cab being paid for to Central London, if it was necessary to work until after 9pm. I wonder if they saw the look of pain in my eyes… I just want a 9-5:30 job! Which doesn’t seem to exist in this country and certainly not in my area of work. And then I turned to the guy who has a 15-month-old girl and asked him “Well, how do you cope?”, he said he has an understanding wife, nanny, granny, etc. I said that I should be able to cope too, that I have a partner who is at university, and my mum. But I don’t know if that put their minds at rest. I also said that I never worked and had a son before but that I was willing to give it a shot. They really make you work for your £30,000. You just don’t get something for nothing. Or at least I don’t seem to, except for dole money, for which I’m very grateful.
Anyway, I was devastated on the tube, as I had really thought I would get the job. Whenever I feel confident things take an unexpected turn, no wonder I’m a pessimist. I was on the District Line, in my own little world, and decided to change at Victoria to get the Victoria Line (as opposed to getting off at Earl’s Court and taking the Piccadilly). When I got to the platform and ran into the train, there was an eerie voice saying “There is a signal failure on Finsbury Park, and the trains are not moving Northbound”. I got off the train, back to District Line, and got a train to South Ken, to get on the Piccadilly Line. Nobody could get down the stairs and the people coming up were saying that Piccadilly Line was closed. The platform was packed, and there were no trains to King’s Cross showing on the panel… I was just standing there in disbelief. What a nightmare the day had turned into! I was just there stood, frozen in time when a voice said that the Piccadilly Line service had resumed subject to delays. Off I went, along with another 500 people, to the Piccadilly Line platform. Luckily a train arrived straight away, but I was to travel home standing up all the way, packed up like cattle. If I can help it I don’t want a job that involves getting into any form of public transport. I have avoided it for years and today I remembered why.
After nearly 2 hours I got to Holloway Road. I hadn’t taken my umbrella, and guess what? I went to the Equatorian café I used to go to when I was at university, to see my amigos that work there. The phone rang and it was R. wondering where the hell I was and telling me how he has work to do. I just put the phone down on him and finished my coffee. When I got home, 15 minutes later I asked him how he could be so nasty and what an awful afternoon I had, including the journey home. He left to print some stuff (he had missed two lectures today because of my interview and playgroup and two courseworks had been given out!). We are both so stressed it’s unreal. He’s got a ton of work to do and no time, I’ve got lots of time and nothing to do and I’m desperate to work. I think you need to meet other children. R. came back and apologised (which was really nice) and we made up. I have to stop now as it’s very late and I have to be up early tomorrow to be with you.