20:44 - 02/08/2011
Jinxed!
Well, I did manage to jinx the job again, dear diary, by writing to you. This time I caught a respiratory virus. Pneumonia according to the diagnosis given to the person who gave it to me; the overseer of the project that I'm working on. As you know I have asthma and a weakened respiratory system because of the walking pneumonia I had years ago when working in the hospital assisting in the care of critical patients. Apparently that scars the lungs and they don't generally recuperate well if at all. Anyway it means that I am very susceptible to any repeat of the disease if exposed to it by contact. The overseer has had the bug since Christmas, but stayed away from until about two weeks ago. Had to train on the software we are required to use. Ok fine, but did she have to cough and sniffle all over me the whole time? I know I'm being a bag, but I had already explained my vulnerability to her. I'm actually quite adept at learning any software on my own. I've had to do that for years on most projects I've worked on. Means that I've missed the past seven work days - without pay of course. Got a call today. All of a sudden the partner that's been stalling all along now wants their testing done by Monday. It's a crisis as far as they're concerned. This is the same partner who couldn't see fit to provide sufficient work about a month ago, resulting in my other co-worker and myself being involuntarily laid off for two weeks over Christmas - also without pay. I am required to be into work tomorrow - wearing a mask if you please - in order to meet the one partner's suddenly critical work needs. Of course I will be there, but I think I'll also be looking more vigorously for another assignment. Sadly there are still very few work assignments available in the city so I may need to just tough it out and have faith that my health holds. Sigh.
I thought I would regale you with one tale of an interview that went sideways just to lighten my mood tonight. The assignment I have now was offered to me late October although it did not commence until the end of the first week in December. Therefore I was still going to job interviews on the premise that the stalling did not bode well for the assignment I now have. I received a call one Tuesday in early November from one placement agency asking if it were possible for me to attend an interview the next afternoon. Sure thing. Took a look at myself in the mirror after the call and decided I needed to do something about my hair. I had bought a box of dye for it a month or more before because it was deeply discounted and I felt it was a purchase that could be justified based on this very scenario. The colour was supposed to be deepest brown according to the label. After finishing the process late that night it became obvious why the discount had been offered. I had become a flaming redhead. Not carroty, but bright brick red. I thought I could hear my mother laughing uproariously in a parallel dimension. You see, the same thing had happened to her when I was ten and our family was on vacation in a neighbouring province. We all teased her for months after, although I actually thought she looked very dramatic and sexy in that shade.
I did not - look dramatic or sexy, but there wasn't any time to undo the damage other than washing with shampoo in an attempt to at least reduce the redness. Didn't really work, but I tied my hair back in a ponytail and decided that at least I would get the measure of the interviewers interest in my abilities, as opposed to my appearance. When walking through the mall toward the interview, it seemed as though every other female there had opted for a dark brown or black hair colour and it felt as though my colour was causing some reaction.
There were two women present in the interview. This was for an emergency sick leave and one of the interviewers was the person needing the sick leave. She had been asked to be involved so that she could be certain she wouldn't come back to a disaster after she had her medical care. Understandable. It was apparent that both interviewers were distracted by my hair so I just explained that sometimes for my quality assurance work I had to role play and change my appearance including things like hair colour. The interview seemed to proceed alright after that but I wondered whether I had been able to finesse the hair problem.
Not long after I arrived home from the interview the contact from the agency called to ask about my feeling about the interview. I explained about the hair issue and she laughed. It was funny - unless it cost me the interview. She said she had feedback for me and also let me know that the job search had been suspended because the two interviewers had panicked and not cleared it with the owner of their company. He had been out of town on the day of the interviews. When he returned next day said that he did not want an interim worker in the sick person's place. None of the five interviewee's was going to be hired.
However, the agent did say that the person who was going on leave had commented that my top was too low cut. I asked the agent to repeat that and explained, with incredulity very obvious in my voice, that she must have mistaken me for one of the other candidates. The agent asked what I had worn. As always, I wore the same interview outfit I always wear, because it is very conservative and provides no distraction during an interview. Black skirt - knee length with black nylons and black shoes. Top is a black silk jacket zippered and tailored to be very buttoned down. Purple or black camisole underneath but the jacket always zipped up to cover that, since it is there just to be certain no underwear lines are apparent. I always find a mirror to check my appearance in before I go into an interview and that day was no exception. Apparently, what triggered the remark was the fact that she could see the necklace A+ had given me early in our relationship. It ends at the top of my cleavage, not the bottom. I wore it for some sense of comfort, but I guess that was the wrong choice in this situation. I noted to the agent that the person needing sick leave was wearing a peasant blouse cut so low that absolutely nothing was left to the imagination. I found myself averting my eyes a few times when she leaned forward during the interview you see. I wasn't trying to make excuses for myself, but I found the hypocrisy a bit much. Oh well. Not meant to be I guess. A+ liked the hair shade so I guess something good came of it.
Since I've been ill, I've been monitoring the news more closely. It is pretty amazing that all the major disasters pounding Australia have been shoved out of the news by the incredible events in the Middle East. Even the hearing for Mr Assange in Britain seems to have become almost an afterthought. The big uproar in this country has been about internet metering, although, again, I have the feeling that is a ruse to distract Canadians' attention from what our governments are sneaking around doing.
Anyway my jitters about work tomorrow are getting worse, so I guess I'd better go deal with the stress. I just want a real job with a decent wage so I can pay my bills and taxes dear diary. Is that asking too much. Good night dear diary.
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