In amusing news I was laid off from work two weeks ago, although in an unusual show of generosity, I was given two weeks notice. And last week on Tuesday I took time off to attend a job interview. In even more amusing news this job interview was at TVW, my former employer before I moved to London. They have adopted a fancy new Greek name so shall for ever more be known as Spartan (in memory of my much missed favourite Gladiator, who hasn't graced our screens for far too long).
The interview was a bit "X-Factor"-ish and just generally surreal. First of all it was just weird to walk through the reception doors again after my years away. Then whilst waiting for the other 11 candidates to arrive, I was greeted repeatedly by my old friends as and when they walked past (which got me some raised eye-brow looks from the other candidates, especially as when we were being walked to the assessment room people were coming out of their offices to greet me like some returning hero). After each part of the assessment (maths exercise, English exercise, and roleplay), the unsuccessful candidates were asked to leave after an agonising wait in the break room. Eventually there was just the five of us left and whilst the other four had their interviews, I was asked to wait... in my old office! Chatting away with old comrades-in-arms just before an interview for a job you've already done is insane.
Needless to say... I got the job. I knew I had the skills to do it but I also know TVW were sticklers for protocol and I'd have to prove to them I did all over again before they'd employ me. Now I've just got to complete a millions bits of paper so they can do background checks on me. Fun times!
And the kids are soon to be here which is quite fitting as my last post was made on the day they left us last! See... it all works out in the end...
If you feel benevolent and particularly generous, this writer always appreciates things bought for him from his wishlist
I know how strange it is to leave a job and come back a few years later. I worked at an art college from 1976 to 1978. Left on good terms to seek my fortune elsewhere. I had no intention of returning as it seemed to be a dead end position.
ReplyDeleteIn 1980 I got a call from the big boss. And I went back to a better situation. I retired in 2001 -- 25 years after I started working there.
As for Veolia, it sounds like the first name of a female chef, part Nigella/part Ffiona, running her own expensive restaurant somewhere near Kensington Church Street. A fig and feta cheese starter for 11 pounds. And 20 for a cheeseburger.