Job Hunting.

It is a somewhat deflated mothersruin contacting the ether today. Having just fallen at my 5th job interview I am feeling somewhat underwhelmed by myself... and am using this space to explore what is going on for me right now.
So.
I've watched interview techniques on linkedin.
I've researched the importance of body language - say the name of the interviewers when they introduce themselves, plenty of eye contact, open shoulders, sit upright, lean forward but don't slouch...
I've swatted up on the company I'm interested in working for.
I adapt my CV.
I write detailed covering letters, laying down examples of why I fit the spec.
I appeal to the interviewers that I am the one. I implore myself to be articulate and look confident.
I ignore my blushes and sweaty palms.
Lucky charms? Not for me. 
I convince myself that I AM the one, and fall into pace with the interviewers, feeling confidence build as the clock ticks by.
Yet, so far, 5 interviews later, I clearly am not the one.

I've been job hunting since September. The day Mol & Liz went back to school I sat down at my desk and pulled my thinking cap on.
What can I do?
What am I qualified to do?
Where do my interests lay?
What are my limitations?
How far away from home can I throw my net?
And so I begun to hunt.

Hunting is fun. I find myself being led down many internet trails, honing in on a target, clicking from one company to the next, one recruitment agency to the next, one council website to another, contemplating roles and companies and hours and pay and trying to imagine myself in that role, doing the job, looking the part, playing the part, becoming the part. Is this a jeans or a suit role? Lipstick or no make up? Mac or PC?

Stabbing away at the keyboard as though making a kill, I click "APPLY" and download another 12 page application form... Sighing at the thought of it, but thinking of the possible exciting end result, I galvanize myself into action and put my head into gear.

As the Personal Statement takes shape I begin to convince myself that I really do deserve the job. Surely, how can they resist me? Look at my experience! Look at my strengths! How honest I am!
I know where my downfalls lay, I'm happy to admit them and crawl out of my comfort zone.
God! Training to be a counsellor drags you kicking and screaming out of the comfort zone once a week (at least) for 2 or 3 years... I'm OK with the comfort zone challenge.
Of course I can keep myself organised and prioritise my workload - I'm a mother for goodness sake! Have you ever tried being a mother? I dare you to look down your nose on the trials of organising a family.

So, having checked for typos, grammatical hiccups, repetition, incorrect national insurance number, no I'm not a lesbian, yes I'm white British, no I'm not an illegal immigrant, no I haven't committed a crime recently (other than blasphemy and going 35 in a 30zone) the "SEND" button is clicked with a flourish of the hand and I breath again in the knowledge that my application is as fat and juicy as a worm to a blackbird.

And honestly, I'm not surprised to receive an invitation to interview. It is obvious. I fit.
Is that arrogant? But why would I apply for a job unless I felt I could do it and had the qualifications? It would be a pointless waste of time.
But then something happens.
What is it?
And here is where I am under a spaghetti of confusion: why can't I nail it in the interview?
What more do they want?
They see me on paper. They see me in the flesh. They hear me twittering away about my experiences "I'm excellent under pressure... If I'm confused by something I refer to a colleague before making any decisions... I've never missed a deadline... I'm used to working with people at all levels within a company..." We smile at each other, and shuffle paper and legs cross and un-cross, water is offered, time slips by. We shake hands and tell each other it was a pleasure, and thank you so much for your time.

24hours later I receive an email telling me that it was (still) a pleasure to meet me, and they enjoyed my interview... But that unfortunately they are not offering me the job.

So then I'm left feeling bereft. WHAT? But we were smiling and having cerebral brain-stretching chats only 2 days ago... what happened?

Do I have a false image of myself?
Or, is it that I am actually for real life a dum-ass-brain-dead-wine-soaked-woman who has been out of the official work-force just a couple of years too many?

Having told my most recent interviewers that I take knock-backs with magnitude, and that I am quite a dogged sort of worker, today, I feel flattened and very (what's the opposite to dogged - catted?) like - well, what good was my University Degree, and my Post-Graduate-Diploma, and my 12 years of marketing work?

I am so tired today. "Get back on to a new quest" says my dad sensitively! "Suck in the grief and go out there again" he carries on, clearly forgetting that I've just spent 2 years training as a counsellor and sucking in grief is not a healthy option.
So today I am grieving for the 5th time in 3 months.
And Monday, I shall put my thinking cap on again, and try, try, try again.
Amen.

(Oh, happy mothers day to all you gals out there!)