A Tale of Woe and Baileys Cheesecake

Right, well I will attempt to avoid moaning as it makes really rubbish reading. The last few days have been tough. And weird. And I feel very displaced.

On monday last week I checked my voicemail and listened to a very organised sounding person named Sam telling me that I had an interview at Southampton University for a job in the international office. At first I panicked, not because I didn't want the interview, but because the reality of going to Southampton hit me very squarely...probably between the eyes... but I don't remember because I think I remained concussed for a couple of hours.

When I felt steady enough on my feet to get up and get myself organised I spent £70 on the train fair (sheesh!! although they'll pay me back) and got a load of research together. I had to take a day and a half off work to get to Bath, to stay at Bens (thank you for the stew and the comfy bed! :o) ) I got up early the next morning and went for the train to Southampton at 8:30, gleefully awaiting a first sight of the place I'll be living in by September (and trying to avoid staring too much at a very very all over tattooed welsh man sitting near me - *shivver*).

In reality, pulling into Southampton by train is a bit of a downer, even though there is a strong history and historic importance surrounding the docks...they really are butt ugly! I did notice a very large branch of John Lewis which can be seen from the station... a classy place... but as yet I haven't seen the centre of town.

The University campus and the place where our flat is are really pretty... and the office where I would be working if I got the job had a brilliant atmosphere, despite the fact that I have my reservations about office work.

I was really early for the interview and sat outside what turned out to be the interview room. I saw the candidate before me come out and breathe a sigh of relief and disappear off to do the written test. Then the people who were interviewing me came out and announced in a jolly way that they were going for a "comfort break". (incidentally, you know that situation where you feel you sould stand up when you meet someone for the first time but they're standing too close to you to stand up and if you did stand up you'd be standing uncomfortably close to them... isn't that awkward!?!) I felt encouraged by how friendly they were, but worried about how superior they were at the same time.

My interview went really well I think, but I felt unsure about my overall impression of the job as the interviewers gave a really different impression of it from when I read the job description in my familiar surroundings at YorkSJ. I don't think I'm right for the job. I was certainly the youngest candidate and while playing the "I can learn quickly and am enthusiastic and have great interpersonal skills" card, they didn't give away any clues as to whether they wanted an experienced administrator or some young whipper-snapper they could mould from scratch.

I still haven't heard anything, and am therefore feeling weird, in limbo, hanging by a string, or something of equal unsteadiness. I am assuming I haven't got it because I was told I would get a call on Friday afternoon, and as yet haven't even got an email to tell me I was unsuccessful. Oh well... I'm knackered. Can't bear the thought of a new job just now anyway!

Back here in York, I can't wait to leave the house of doom. After all, it is the HOUSE OF DOOM. However, the landlady had a complaint from another of the housemates who came back to collect her stuff and found it scattered around the house. She knew a lot more about the laws and tennants rights than I had known where to check up on, and told the Landlady (who tried to lie her way out of it) that we had the right to claim our rent money back because the living arrangements were impossible. Apparently, above all "Tennants have the right to quiet living". In this rapidly deteriorating state of the house I didn't use the bathroom, the shower or the kitchen for the whole of last week and was feeling miserable at how horrible it felt to be in such a massive house on my own with only some rude and disrespectful painters for company! The Landlady has now had a cleaning lady come to clean out the bath, which had been used by the painters to wash their brushes, and she made a feeble attempt at making a make-shift living room by putting the sofa in one of the bedrooms that's been painted already.

I knew it would be unpleasant to live on my own in a house that is being worked on, but I wasn't prepared for the emotional fall-out. It's incredible how uncomfortable these people have made me feel... and they seem to think they can take the micky out of me... I suppose they're being friendly but I get the impression they think of me as an obstacle and want me to leave.

In a desperate attempt to cheer myself up I went to city screen and had a slice of Baileys Cheesecake... which did cheer me up and I am now feeling ok. Well done if you've managed to read to the end of this marathon post. *Wild Applause and Whooping*

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