For now, here is a little more about her:
Onto Beth's fab post. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!Beth, 18, a Creative Writing and English Literature student at the University of Chester. I currently work part time in Boots, and have a strong interest in writing, reading, travel and music. I hope to one day become a successful publisher, but for now I'm content with using the world around me to inspire me.
The Myth Of The Exciting Summer Job by Beth Jones
If, like me, you’ve finished uni for the summer, you’re probably either desperately seeking a job for yourself so you have enough money to survive this summer, or your parents are badgering you about getting one. I fell into both categories on this. And so it starts. You spend AGES scouring websites such as Indeed.com, updating your CV, and searching for the sought after summer job. First of all, you’re over ambitious applying for jobs with fancy names, with fancy companies, and you have images of yourself in a glamorous job position. You eagerly wait for the job offers to come rolling in, checking your email every two seconds, and complaining to your friends when you’re out of WiFi range as you know that’s when you’ll get an offer. You tell your parents how amazing your life will be if you get this job, and brag to your friends how likely you are to get it.
Suddenly it’s a week later and you haven’t heard anything. By this point you’re starting to get a bit pissed off, I mean, come on, why wouldn’t they want to employ you?
Two weeks later and it’s over, you’ve had the dreaded rejection email, with the impersonal ‘Thank you for applying’, and you’ve even had the rather rude ‘do you wish to fill out a survey to inform us about our application process’. Yeah right.
You’re now aware that times ticking, you’re even more broke than before, your parents are nagging you to the point you’re considering sleeping in the garden as a method of escape, and it’s already a couple of weeks into summer, meaning even less summer jobs are now available.
So now you’re frantically scrolling through the net, applying for anything and everything in sight, even if it’s miles away from where you actually live, and the job sounds horrendous and you know you’re sinking to levels even deeper than the deepest part of the ocean. When your parents ask you how the job search is going, you can now tell them how hard you’re trying to get a job, and you can show them your clogged up email inbox, full of companies telling you that they’ve received your application and will be reviewing it. To be honest, by this point your hope is nil.
You spend the next few days moping around the house because you have no money, and somehow (you’re not sure how) your friends have managed to get their shit together, and actually get a summer job.
Until suddenly an unknown number flashes up on your phone, and you answer it, ready to shout at the call centre who are bugging you for the thousandth time, except.. instead your greeted by a friendly, chirpy voice on the other end of the line. And they want to speak to you about a job. Your heart races as you quickly prepare yourself before replying. The person on the other end of the phone asks if you’re free, there and then, for a telephone interview, and you try to compose yourself and act calm and casually before replying yes, not allowing the fact that your life now depends on the next five minutes, to get in the way.
Five minutes later and somehow you’ve managed to blag yourself an actual interview for in a few days time. You get off the phone and excitedly tell your parents that you’ve managed to get yourself an interview, ignoring the fact that it’s for one of the jobs that you didn’t really want, and the fact it’s going to take you an hour everyday to get there, if you actually do manage to get the job.
Roll round to interview day, and you’re up bright and early, dressed in your smartest clothes, and feeling like you’ve actually made it in the world, as you travel the route to the interview, looking around at everyone commuting into their actual jobs, and feeling enthusiastic that you too could soon be doing this on a regular basis. You pointedly ignore the fact that half of these people look knackered, as if they haven’t slept in months (they probably haven’t).
You arrive early before the interview and assess your competition, thinking, ‘piece of cake, I’m much more likely to get the job than this bunch.’ You go into the interview, and desperately suck up to the person who’s interviewing you, telling them how much you love the company, and how much you’d love to work with them. When they ask you about your availability, you stupidly say you’re available all the time, your observation skills failing you yet again, as you miss the glint in the interviewer’s eyes when they realise what you’ve said.
You leave the interview knowing you’ve done all you can, and make the long journey home. A couple of hours later, you’re sat having a cup of tea with your parents, whilst they’re all proud of you for being ‘grown up’ and going to an interview, when your phone rings with an unknown number. You answer the call, and can’t believe it when you’re offered the job. Your parents are super proud, everything’s great, you’ve got a summer job!
Everything’s perfect until you get your contract, see your minimum wage page, realise you’ve agreed to full time hours and complete flexibility, and the fact that your weekends are now going to be spent working rather than partying it up with your friends with all the money you’ve earned.
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