Another Interview

It should be written down somewhere that you should never down play your educational achievements. This is precisely what I did do at my last job interview. In a moment of false modesty,combined with an irresistible urge to introduce levity into what was an otherwise fairly austere interview, I garbled my educational qualifications into a sabotaged paragraph making them sound completely unimportant. In fact I practically dismissed them on the spot as being about as relevant as a degree in astrophysics held by an applicant asking to fill a vacancy as a temporary school dinner lady.

As I relive the interview - which is always a difficult process when one's becalmed self has to critique a time when one's performance is ravaged with induced debilitating nervous tension disorder - I am now frustrated by my misplaced act of modesty which doubtless contributed to my lack of success. The interview wasn't going great - it wasn't going badly, but, I was aware that it needed a bit of snap, a fillip if you like, at about the time that my seat of pants answers began to sound desperate as I began manipulating experiences in answer to questions in the hope that I could convince them sufficiently that the answers were good.  This prompted several rephrasing of the same questions which suggested my prevarications had been spotted. Then my academic qualifications came up. This was the time for the fillip. Often this is an area where academic subjects are hammered into ill fitting places to make them look and sound right.  But mine were absolutely right. In many other instances and at several previous job interviews they weren't  right or absolutely right; but for this one they were almost perfect, and you don't get to feel that very often. 

The question was phrased in a way that I should have been delighted to hear. 'Tell me about these qualifications - which are a/ professional, b/ specialist, and c/ highly germane to the post sought. My answer was along the lines of; 'oh that.' (nervous laughter) 'Well, it was all a long time ago really and I've probably forgotten most of it... (pause) (awkward silence) (stuttering) b. but I'm sure it'll come back to me!' Too late, the damage was done. The one thing I had in my favour, I'd gone out of my way to ruin. I was my own subverting wrecking ball, I was the poison in my own vial.  Mr Tongue had decided - with a little conspiring with his big silent cousin Mr Brain and with absolutely no consultation with the host - Mr Me -  that today it was going to re-enact the problem of the Trojan Horse, and see if I could survive that.