The plot that thickened earlier subsequently stuck to the bottom of the pan. I didn't get the job. Not sure exactly why. I was described as a stellar candidate. Another interview where I felt my performance rise above the mundane and then pop! Sod's law sticks a pin in it.
I would dwell on this, it being my nature to wallow especially when I don't feel it's been a constructive use of my time, but I'm too excited about going home tomorrow - London, England. For all it's flaws, it's frankly the only place I want to be right now. I've stocked up on sleeping pills and Pro Plus. While I appear to have planned a picnic for Mrs. Cock-up, I have no intention of being home to Mr. Jet-Lag.
The job search doesn't stop here. Of course not. Networking has to continue but I think the business of self promotion will have to wait until the New Year. Let's hope it brings familiarity and acceptance on all planes - god knows I need someone to throw me a bone. I thank those that have already put the dog bowl out. Sincerely thank you.
Meanwhile I'm being contacted by recruiters in the UK as if divine guidance is trying to steer me towards something else altogether. I've realised in the past I've sort of given up too easily on projects simply because I could and here in Canada I'm finally learning what it feels like to go the distance or at least try to. Every cloud...
After all the emotional investment of the past three months, it's time to grow from it but again that will have to wait too because for the next ten days in the UK, I plan to regress. It's my party now.
So that's me done for a bit in the career stakes. I've been soaked overnight in stark reality and laid out flat to dry .
Now where's my travel iron?
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