I worry about what the future holds

It's hard to say what exactly I feel this week.

Monday I felt good. I was feeling optimistic and positive about the job interview, and I think the extra sleep from not having to get up for work made me happy. The interview itself...wasn't like I expected. To begin with: the writing test. Every writing test I have ever done followed a similar format of "here is your information, read it and then follow the instructions to write something". This test started with "Here's a pen and paper. Write something. Anything. Your time starts now". The HR chick then returned a few minutes later and decided that it really was unfair to ask me to handwrite something, so they would provide me with a computer. Still no guidelines as to what to write though. I have written professionally in a range of styles to a variety of audiences -- I have written news and features for local newspapers, I've written about sportswear for teen markets, pizzas and Italian food and even eye-health. For my own personal amusement, I've written poetry and fiction and there's this here blog thing -- but I don't really know what's going on there.

My point is, I expect some kind of guidance or material when asked to "write something". What am I supposed to write? Hello my name is Jay I am 26-and-three-quarters I like cats and listening to music and my favourite phrase in Spanish is 'mi casa es su casa'". I don't know. Instead, I wrote again about the "winter vomiting bug" because it was the only vaguely serious thing I could think of. My main aim was just to try and make it concise, readable and grammatically correct.

Then came the interview. A three-person panel interview, supervised by the chick from HR who would also chip in with her own questions from time to time. It has to be three people, since I'd technically be doing two different part-time jobs and working for two bosses -- they needed a third person because one is retiring and the other is taking his place.

There were the usual questions about prioritising work and whatever else, but I think the strangest question came from the old guy when he asked me "Do you believe in IT?". It felt like I was being asked if I believed in global warming, or in life on other planets. I was tempted to say, no, I don't think IT exists -- I believe it's just a conspiracy to sell more computers... Apparently it wasn't a philosophical question, but it was hard to see exactly what he meant. I just talked about the need for backups, hard copies and sometimes the need for an old fashioned pen and paper.

I'm worried that I won't get the job. I'm worried that last year's freelance adventures have soured me so much to potential employers that it's going to be difficult to get anything. The bookshop was great at the time, it showed me I could be well liked in an interview and get a job. But like everything else, it doesn't go permanent and I seem again like I can't hold a job.

I went into the bookshop the other day -- since I wanted to return my old locker key, and my bold red t-shirt that said to ask me for gift ideas. It felt strange. It felt like all the times when I used to go in as a customer and see the same members of staff, and there was again that staff/customer distance, but at the same time I knew these people. I showed Jon the "recommendations" I had written for books by Michael Winner and Kerry Katona. But it felt a little sad, to tell the truth.

I guess it's easy to feel disheartened at this time of year, it's grey, cold and wet outside. Tonight my brother is coming home because tomorrow we're attending my aunt's funeral, who died of cancer just before New Year. I mention it not because I want wishes of sympathy, but because it seems almost fitting.

In other news, I had my eyes tested today. Not because I felt I needed them tested (even though it had been three years since my last test) but because for my RAF application I needed an official form completed by my optician. I figure for the £30 they charge for a 20 minute eye test, the least they could do was fill out my form as well. Apparently they would normally charge £20 for the privilege, so maybe it was a wise move to try and combine the two. The official verdict is my eyesight has apparently improved slightly (ha! and they said I'd go blind if I didn't stop it) though if that's actually the case or if I was over-prescribed last time, I do not know. Other than that, though, I am -- amazingly -- so entirely normal it barely needs comment.

Monday I have to go along to Armed Forces recruitment office to attend a two-hour presentation -- note to self, dose up on caffeine first.