A personal anecdote and in no means written to discourage, rather to encourage

Easier Said Than Done

Maria Dweggah, WHO

I recall a few years back when I was desperately unemployed. I applied and got an interview for a job making sandwiches in a newly-opened sandwich shop. I walked into the manager/owner’s office. I sat down across from him. He looked at my application. Said something about me being overqualified. I said something about he would be the one gaining with such an overqualified person as me (This will be the topic of another article, “Sorry, you are overqualified”). And then he fixed his eyes on me, and with a serious look he asked, “Tell me, if I hire you, will you make my sandwiches with love?”

“What?”, I said. (not another San Francisco nut case, I thought)

“Yes, you heard me correctly, will you make my sandwiches with love? There are many sandwich places around this area, the difference in MY shop will be HOW the sandwiches are made”

“Sure”, I said, “I will make them with love.” (I needed a job, for Pete’s sake)

I got the job. And I worked there a few months, until I found something more in tune with my qualifications and commensurate with my experience and education. But of all the job interviews I have ever had, and there have been many, this one has always stood out in my mind. (I won’t mention the other one where I applied for bar maid. This one is also very memorable). Anyone can make a sandwich, what he wanted was someone who would invest as much emotion into his business as he had.

A few months ago, there it was MY JOB on the notice board. I applied and was called for an interview which was scheduled a few weeks ago. Although I had an idea of the program, nevertheless I went to their document area. I picked up the reports, and the guidelines, and the supplementary information and the aide memoires, and the articles and the updates. I checked out the web and got the organi gram.

During the two weeks before the interview I read the material and rehearsed my responses. I almost got killed practising while driving my car. People crossing my path seeing this mumbling nut steered clear of me. And my dog, poor thing, during our daily walks would look up at me with that “are you talking to me” look. Over and over, “What are my strengths, my weaknesses. Should I start with my weaknesses first? What are my weaknesses? Do I have any weakness? I gotta come up with some weakness; mais attention, weaknesses that make me look good.

Why are you applying for the job? What will you bring to this job? Describe how you are a good team player. Oh, I knew all the questions. As a staff representative on over 55 selection panels – Professional as well as General Services posts, I had a good idea of what kind of questions would be asked and what responses would be expected by the panel members.

But I blew it

First major mistake. I was waiting outside the wrong interview room. When no one came out to get me, I knocked and walked in. There was a room full of people. “Ooops”, I said, “this does not look like a selection panel.” I excused myself and closed the door. I said a few choice words to myself and said “Oh great, oh this is just great”

In a panic, I phoned the personnel assistant and she gave me the right room, one and a half buildings away. And she was kind enough to say she would call over there and inform them.

So I ran. When I arrived outside the correct room, totally out of breath, I knocked on the door and I was asked if I would not mind waiting a few more minutes as they were not ready. YES!

Oh, I brought the pad and the pen and a copy of the VN and a few publications.

Second major mistake. I forgot the rest. The listening, the listening, the listening, the focusing, the summarizing, the focusing, the analyzing. I was so nervous. Halfway through my responses, I forgot what the question was. To make it worse, in my fervour and eagerness to demonstrate my knowledge of the program, I got lost in my own verbosity.

Maybe I hyperventilated, maybe I had too much oxygen circulating in my body. While I was waiting in the corridor to be let into the interview room, everyone I saw was asking what I was doing there. When I told them that I was waiting for a job interview and how nervous I was, they advised me to take deep breaths, deep breaths. So I took a whole bunch of deep breaths. Can that cause an unusual desire to talk on and on and on?

While I was taking the deep breaths, I went to the ladies room. When I get nervous I has sudden desires to go to the ladies room There was a staff member washing a huge bowl of fresh strawberries in the sink. I told her I was waiting for an interview and how nervous I was. She advised me not to take it personally; I was not the one being judged and just to remember that and offered me the biggest strawberry I had ever seen in my life. How much sugar is there in a strawberry? It was huge. Could the sugar have given me a sugar high? Could it have made me hyperactive. Could IT have been the cause of my uncontrollable loquacious state?

Did I get the job? The ordeal is not over, the written test remains.

All in all a good experience. I am not discouraged. I’ll do better next time.