Going Back

To York, for a job interview.  Three of the four trains I took, I was facing backwards.  This is what comes of booking train tickets in a state of high excitement, and at the last minute.  I plunged into a Kate Atkinson and tried to ignore the fact that I appeared to be reversing into my own future.

If someone asked me to design the city I want to live in, and the job I want, at the place I want, I would come up with this job, at this place, in York.  So, half an hour early for my interview, I sat in the beautiful campus gardens, my arms buzzing with adrenaline.  Normal language seems to desert me during interviews, therefore I'm sure I talked a lot of shit.  I have absolutely no idea whether it was a good interview.  All three on the panel kept nodding, but that might have meant, "Yep, yep, call security."

I met the Vice-Chancellor and the thing she was most interested in was that I had worked for Sir Howard Davies.  And then we talked about student satisfaction.  Oh shut up.

I have heard nothing yet, which makes me sad.  And yes, that is stupidly impatient, seeing as it's been only a day.  If I have not got the job, that's ok.  This is just the beginning.