A Development

This week has brought with it a few surprises. On Wednesday, I was just randomly surfing around football related websites when I stumbled across a list of job adverts. Expecting not to see anything interesting I didn’t really pay much attention to it.

Scrolling through, they all looked beyond me. Then there was one. I couldn’t believe the luck. A job for a PA and office administrator. Based in London, yes, but no matter. I’m prepared to relocate anyway.

Small problem. The closing date was the same day.

This job, to me, is probably what I’m looking for. I love the work I do for my football club. It is work, but it’s work I really enjoy, so the time just flies by. Now, sure, I won’t be doing the same in this PA job, but the crucial thing is that it is going to combine footballing interests with, I think, my abilities to organise and run things efficiently. I think I’m a pretty good administrator. I demonstrated that when I worked for an MP, and again in all the things I run for my club.

I don’t think there’s a logical job progression from it, but it will put me in a field that, for certain, I want to be involved in. Plus, by moving to London I will be a lot closer to the political world, which may or may not be my next step… but it certainly becomes so much more of an option by being close by.

Anyway, I e-mailed them at 3pm, rushed through the application and got it back to them by 10pm. They said they’d let me off with missing the 5pm deadline because of how late I’d spotted it. And it was just a pure fluke. I wasn’t actually doing my usual daily trawl of the job listings at the time.

Two days later, a phonecall. They want me for interview next Thursday.

Now – my train of thought is that, they know I live a fair distance from London. So I guess that’s why they’re giving me enough notice. But… at the same time, surely they wouldn’t make me travel all the way there if they’ve got no intention of at least hearing me out? Therefore, I must actually be in with a genuine chance. So many times I apply for jobs and just get the feeling that it’s already an internal stitch up, that someone has already been lined up for it but they have to go through the formal process of advertising it, etc.

I’m delighted to finally get this opportunity to put my case to someone. I feel like I get a chance to show that I’m actually a pretty likeable person face-to-face. I will feel fairly confident when I go in there… just as long as I keep control of my nerves.

I don’t want to speculate too much about what happens after that. I just hope it’s a worthwhile use of £70… which is what it’s going to cost me to get there! I’ve had to calculate a very careful plan to get me there on time, but all is reliant upon trains and other connections working perfectly. Please don’t let me down. I don’t want my first impression to be negative – having to call them up to say I’m going to be late. Urgh.

Either way, Thursday is going to be an entertaining day. I’ve got nothing to lose, after all. I would definitely love to get the job – things are starting to get a little too much for me living here – but I must try not to pin too many hopes to it. It would work out very well, but maybe there are other opportunities down the road just in case.

They do have a habit of springing up from nowhere.

The Thrashing

And so the football season resumes. No, not the football everyone knows about, but real football.

I am, of course, talking about my football team. The one that I help run. It was supposed to kick off last week, but the terrible weather meant a week’s delay. No matter, because yesterday it was actually decent conditions to play in, if a little foggy.

We did, naturally, get beat. To most football supporters, a scoreline of 5-0 would be construed as a thrashing. Not to us. That is a reasonably respectable result. In grassroots football, the tempo is so furious at times that you can just concede goal after goal extremely easily. I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before. I like making excuses.

But no matter it’s still great fun. Yes, the players get a bit demoralised, but we have come to expect it now that keeping the scoreline respectable is counted as a good result. Who cares about league tables, we say on a regular basis.

The annoying thing is that we’re so close to actually being an OK side. For times of the game yesterday, we looked decent. It was going to be just 2-0 at half time, until a frantic two minutes before half time led to two more goals going in. 2-0 would have been manageable, and frustrating for the opposition, but 4-0 is disappointing.

Then in the second half we played a full thirty minutes without conceding again. We had chances to score, many of them, but wasted each one. Only in the last minute did we concede. Football is brutal if you switch off for just a second. It requires immense concentration. Any lapse and you’re doomed. That is something I really didn’t understand till I started watching football at this level. It’s really helped me appreciate the game more, and how intricate it really is.

But it is more than that. The fact that I’m now back in my Sunday morning routines means that’s it’s like the return of an old friend. We’ve spent all summer not knowing what to do with our Sundays. In fact, I spent most of them baking Irish soda bread just to pass the time.

It’s nice to feel a sense of belonging. There’s so much stuff I do for this team but it goes unnoticed. I don’t mind much, as it gives me something to do. And even more so these days while I’m unemployed.

It’s also made me think about getting back into refereeing. But I’m just not fit enough. I need to be able to keep running around for 90 minutes. That’s not easy for someone who is not used to do that much exercise. It would also provide me with much needed cash at these desperate times.

But now reality must resume. Ironing, shaving, shower… boring. I wish I could just do all that when I first get up in the morning, but I can’t, because we have one bathroom, and if I were to do that I would cause a riot, as it would hog the bathroom at the moment everyone else in the house needs it. Instead, I have to wait for everyone to leave.

And that’s now happened. Off we go…

Abnormal Service

At the moment my mum is on holiday with her job, away until Friday, so the atmosphere of the house is a little different. My dad is having to be the one who thinks about what we need in the house, keeping a check on supplies. Which invariably means we run out of things.

The poor old dog has also been having to rely on other people feeding it. I’m not sure it’s been fed yet this morning. I’m now going to have to e-mail my dad to ask him if he fed it. And if not, it will mean I have to because my brother who is here at the moment is useless. In any case, he has an exam this afternoon, so it’s just easier not to disturb him…

Unfortunately, me and my brother don’t talk as much as we used to. We used to be really good friends but now he’s older things seem to have become a lot more awkward. I don’t really know what that’s the case. I don’t know whether it’s connected to me going away to university. Maybe not. We just don’t know what to say to each other any more, averting eye contact…

At the same time too, my other brother is away with his school on an overnight trip, but he’ll be back later. It has made the house incredibly quiet. Except for when my sister comes back, who is still spending most of her time torturing the dog.

In my life very little is happening. I’ve spent the past couple of days doing the odd bit here and there for my football team, which I am really looking forward to being an integral part of for the first time this upcoming season. On Sunday we were all at the final event of the season, a football tournament, and though we didn’t win (or come close to it), we did better in it than we have ever done before. Plus the sun was shining all day. Absolutely glorious.

Of course, it’s a far cry from football on a big open, near frozen field in December with the harsh north wind blowing. But we do it because we love the game. And I certainly do. Though a couple of the Euro 2008 games have been incredibly boring in the past few days… Romania v France anyone?

Meanwhile, the days tick by… and in 19 more of them I will find out what I got for my degree. Now that is exciting!