Like swimming in beef Oxo and going after the wrong buoy 2

Some people think that working for yourself means total control over your time and activities but they are oh so very wrong. With a clear diary from 1pm onward on the Friday afternoon, bags packed (being a swimmer means you don’t travel light) and lots of high carb snacks for energy so I could easily dip in during the journey up to Stockton, I was contending with an easy morning of telephone interviews before jumping in the car to go and pick up my swimming chum. Interviewing in itself is not so difficult, a bit like writing - once you get into it it’s interesting and can be quite fun. But my final candidate gave me a bit of a headache because I just could not formulate my thoughts in such a way that provided at least a little balance to notes I had made about the poor chap. When I read them back I realised I had given him a bit of a panning. What’s more, this particular candidate had contacts in the firm for which I was interviewing and as the time ticked on and my brain started to grind to a halt with the effort I got a call to ask where the notes were. Grimacing to myself and feeling my palms started to sweat with the pressure of being late but having to get the interview notes off before I could go, I inflicted a few sharp slaps around the head and did a dozen star jumps in the hallway in an effort to get the blood circulating around my brain.  This rather disconcerted next doors cat which was wandering past at the time. Back at my desk with new found vigor and my eye on the clock I bashed out a few more sentences for a suitably upbeat finish and sighed with relief as I hit the send button. Off the notes went into the ether. I was a few minutes behind schedule sure, but nothing that couldn’t be caught up on the way.  And then I made the mistake of picking up the phone when it rang.