Kirstie's job log: 16
Kirstie Nicols works in sales but has hopes of becoming a journalist. Waiting to hear We all know what ‘those three little words’ you’ve always wanted to hear are; but do you know about the two little words some have always wanted to say?
They are ‘I quit’. In the last blog, I mentioned that I was going for an interview; but I didn’t really say much about it. As the majority of the interviews I attend usually end up with someone apologising, but reassuring me that I was ‘a really strong candidate’, I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high. It’s happened so often in fact that I’d pretty much given up looking, and was planning to concentrate on getting work experience instead. So when a friend mentioned a job she thought I’d be interested in, I wasn’t too enthusiastic, but said I’d take a look. I took the details home and left it so late that when I finally got round to reading it, and decided that I wanted to apply for it, I nearly missed the deadline. As I hadn’t been able to spend much time completing the application, I thought that would probably be the end of it and, at the most, I would get a polite but final letter. Something about my rushed application must have impressed them though, because two days later I got a call asking if I could come in for an interview. Close to the newsOnce I’d worked out what all the jargon in the job’s advert meant, it seems that the position I have applied for is essentially a sales role; much like what I’m doing at the moment. The reason I am so enthusiastic about the job is that instead of selling sand and gravel, I would be selling advertising space. And although the position itself is very similar to what I do (and complain about) already, it’s the company that interests me; as the advertising space I would be selling is for one of the local newpapers. It was made very clear in the interview that the job has no connection with the journalistic side; and they tended not to ask the sales team to write an article if one of their reporters called in sick. However, this hasn’t dampened my optimism yet, as at the very least it would be a chance to make some friendly contacts. You never know what could happen if I were to carry round examples of previous work (see tagline of last issue’s article on page 2!) everywhere I went; plus, I’d get the chance to tell people I work for a newspaper (as long as I stay a little hazy about the details). It would also mean that I could finally move on from where I am now; my quick-fix job that lasted just a little bit longer than I expected. The interview itself was one of those rare ones where everything seems to be going right; you can answer all the questions, smile and nod in the right places, remember the interviewers’ names and manage to leave without messing it all up. They told me I’d have to wait a week before hearing back; but when I left I’m sure I saw one of them wink at me slyly (though that’s probably just an overactive imagination). The rest of the week was hard to get through without images of myself popping my head into the boss’s office and yelling ‘yah boo sucks’ at him, but I made it. I got a call during my lunch break exactly a week later, offering me the job. Anticipation - and fearI said yes immediately, and have agreed to start work in my new position in the middle of March, after my month’s notice and a holiday. After it had all sunk in and I’d had time to think about it, I realised that I’m actually petrified about leaving my nice comfy job where everybody likes me (or pretends to like me), I know what I’m doing, and am only ten minutes from my front door. It means another ‘First Day’ where you have to figure out what you should do, who you should talk to and what you can get away with. Plus, I really enjoy the nights out with the guys at work. I don’t think enjoying getting drunk with work is a good enough excuse to stay in the same job for a little bit longer though; and anyway, I really am looking forward to the new position. It might be worse than the one I’m in now or it might be better, but I won’t know until I get there. So, that’s how I came to be standing in my boss’s office, finally saying those two little words. I quit. Read Kirstie's previous blogs
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