I've been looking back a bit today. Especially the last few years, at where it all went wrong. I wasn't being unhappy or depressed about it. I just thought, "it's done and in the past".
I used to be a good kid. Fairly well behaved, most of the time. I still am. I performed well at school, building good friendships while being polite and friendly. All was gravy. I had a bright future ahead of me and everyone kept telling me so and it was all fine. I turned 18 though and this is when it started to go downhill..
I started to drink. Ha, I joke. Well, I did start to drink but not to oblivion. I didn't become an alcoholic, even if a few people do say otherwise! But the education started to hit me. It became too difficult to juggle work and pleasure and I became dragged into depression before I had to do anything to fight against it. Work made me depressed, so it naturally happened, I refused to do it. To avoid sadness. No education, at the most vital of times means very little to show for 13 years of schooling. All was not lost.
I went on the job hunt. I can't remember if I've told you the story of the Marketing trip to Birmingham. I shall tell you it anyway.
It was my first ever job interview. I had applied for a trainee marketing position for a company in Luton. I was absolutely terrified. The first interview didn't last very long at all. I had travelled for 45 minutes for a 5 minute chat with a very executive looking person. I left in a bit of a daze, sweating from head to toe, but anticipating a positive phone call later in the evening confirming whether I had made it through to the next stage. By the time I got home, I only had to wait 10 minutes or so for that phone call..
"Hi Thomas. It's (name) from (name of company). Yeah, OK, I don't remember the names.. He went on to congratulate me for getting through to the 2nd stage of the interview which would happen the next day. He said nothing else, but to meet up at the office at 10am the next day and warned that it may be a long one, but, as he said, "You can't be successful in this business if you're not going to put the hours in". He sounded like a sore loser who doesn't like not being successful. I was excited none the less and went to sleep with a smile on my face.
The next day came, quicker than expected, and once again I was on my way to the offices in the back streets of Luton somewhere. I had a strange feeling that the day wasn't going to work out, and if I could go back in time, I wouldn't of got out of bed for what I experienced that day.
For starters, I got lost. I didn't take a SatNav because I was confident that I knew where I was going, having gone there only the day before, however I got lost. I don't know how, but I managed it. I turned up half an hour late, even with the secretaries directions, which wasn't the best of starts. I drove up, parked, with the faces of all the other applicants invited staring at me, wondering "Who is this young wannabe ruining our day?"
I went in, embarrassed, apologised and walked straight back out again. Before apologising some more to other people, I was greeted by an Assistant Manager of some sort. He went through the itinerary for the day and learnt that people would be going all over the country to promote a product of some sort. Sounded exciting. I then learnt I would be driving 4 other people to Birmingham for the day. Not what I was expecting. Especially that I had smashed my back windscreen the day before, reversing into a wheelie bin, and that I wasn't supposed to do motorway driving or open any windows, on a boiling hot Summers day.. I wasn't the most popular person in the group.. Maybe that was the reason they contributed zero pounds to the petrol fund..
It was a very, very long drive up to Birmingham that day.. It only took an hour and a half but conversation was thin on the ground and the occasional small talk was only about the others Undergraduate degrees in this, that or the other and I felt incredibly left out. When we finally got to our destination, I parked in a multi-storey, (funds that would go uncontributed again later in the day), and we walked, once again in relative silence, to our pre-arranged meeting point.
The time was 11.50am.. We had a spot of lunch and then for 9 solid hours, I was ordered to stand in the middle of the city centre and try and poach people to sign up for some charity. For 9 solid hours, me and one other person, stood and coaxed a total of 4 people to sign up for an animal charity, in shirt and tie wearing a fleece of the charity's name, in the boiling 30 degree heat. It was complete torture and my thoughts at the beginning of the day were slowly being confirmed. Not just that, but as I saw others in the group throughout the day talking about the great things that they had done, I realised I had been used as a taxi and nothing else. I was incensed. I didn't want to be involved in a company like that, and to be fair, I probably wasn't going to get invited to be a part of it at all.
I drove home, windows open, (and for an hour of the journey with no back windscreen), in anger, dropping people back off in the offices in Luton before driving off into the sunset. I was supposed to wait to see if I had made it through, but I didn't bother. People were probably wondering where the hell I was going, but I didn't care. I never even got a phone call. And luckily I didn't. The only positive of the day was talking to the other person for a brief time because I got the impression she was there for the same reason I was.. She was extremely quiet though and didn't seem to want to engage in conversation.. Maybe she fancied me? Yeah, right! She was rather pretty if I remember rightly.. Otherwise, I just wanted to go home..
Bloody hell, that took some explaining! But it is times like that, that I appreciate the job I have at the moment. It might not be very exciting or career-inducing but the fact of the matter is, 1) I am appreciated and 2) I work with the best people, (except for 95% of the time..) and it'll do. At least I get paid to do it.
If this blog does get published, (I will live in hope!), and you are reading this. Just remember, it's not over till the fat lady sings. Or Madonna.
Cya x
No comments:
Post a Comment