I had a revelation today.
After an in-depth discussion with a recruitment consultant where she gave me some brutally honest feedback from an interview I realised that I'm just not very interesting -- or else I am unable to project it.
Recent interview feedback has a recurring theme of "he's very nice, but..." and the but is usually along the lines of not being convinced I am right for that agency, or that account. Sounds reasonable enough, right? This week's interviewer went one step further and said I just wasn't upbeat or enthusiastic enough. How enthusiastic can you be about "British Sausage Week"? That probably means I'm in the wrong line of work. I've said before I might be too cynical for PR. That said, I would have done the job -- and done it well.
They had the nerve to suggest my previous freelance contracts haven't led to permanent jobs because perhaps I'm just not good enough. I already ask myself that time and time again, I really didn't need someone else suggesting it. But it is probably true -- that despite whatever interests and passions I have, I'm just not extroverted enough and with it, and just not exciting enough.
The evidence is all there -- it now makes so much sense. This explains why I sucked and ultimately failed as a journalist -- in particular why after months of interviews and work experience nobody would give me a job. If I had been confident or exciting enough, the qualifications and the shorthand wouldn't have mattered. After that, I decided that I quite enjoyed my day job and bar management, and again failed to get anywhere. Repeated interviews, assessments, training, meetings -- and absolutely nothing.
It would seem that given the above, PR wouldn't be a very sensible choice of career. An industry filled with gregarious and outgoing people, people who can above all sell themselves. It's no coincidence that the work I've had, I've been hired without an interview -- and although they always think I'm a nice person, I'm not good enough. I'm not the right person.
I've been complaining about a lack of dates, and how the dates I do have don't lead anywhere. I should have seen this before, it seems so obvious. If I was more interesting, if I was more outgoing, if I was more confident, I wouldn't even be needing to place or reply to dating ads. And those times when I get a date, it doesn't take a genius to work out why they don't want to see me again -- oh sure, there's nothing wrong with me, I'm a nice guy, I'm just not interesting or exciting enough. It explains why previous relationships have failed -- why a passionate affection for me just evaporates -- and why some don't ever get as far as actual relationships.
I wondered what went wrong with the girl named Christmas, why when I thought we had a rapport that she found someone else. I ask myself if -- with her and with others -- if I had shown more commitment if they might not have wanted me instead of the person they ended up with. But I know now that's not it -- I could have been telling them I wanted to see them, or was willing to move, or whatever it took to make it happen, and maybe that would have worked? But, really, it was that these other people always have what I lack.
I don't know where I go from here. For this blog, I think I'm going to stop writing about myself for a while. For my life... I don't know.
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