Not officially a graduate
Since my last update I officially finished uni. My results dropped through the letterbox – a disappointing but expected 2:2, ever so narrowly missing out on a 2:1, thanks for asking – and I started to contemplate my next move.
By contemplate my next move, I mean I went to the bank to ask for an extension to my overdraft so I could spend more time pondering. But they said no. Apparently I'm not a graduate until September. That ceremony I'm going to in a fortnight must just be for show.
So I tried a new tack. I went to the local Job Centre. I would have got more out of it by banging my head on the outside of the building. I mistakenly thought the staff there would have been able to assist me in finding a job.
But no. They were however able to give me a pretty bit of card with the website address and phone number on it, should I wish to sign on, thus saving me the three seconds it would have taken to type 'Job Centre' into Google myself.
Dismayed at the lack of progress made at the Job Centre I trawled the recruitment agencies in the town centre. This was a lot more useful, with the staff there able to tell me exactly what my chances were of finding work.
They asked me questions about exactly what I wanted to do, when I was available, how much money I was looking to earn and when I could start. I told them I would do pretty much anything - thinking of packing boxes or even labouring as a worst case scenario, but ideally something will come up that will give me some useful experience.
I was expecting to be invited back for a formal chat about my prospects and how I could be employed but I sensed the staff would prefer for most of our contact to be over the phone or by e-mail rather than by me pestering them face-to-face, every other day.
I have been applying for more trainee reporter jobs than you could shake a stick at as well, thanks to the ever useful yet ultimately depressing journalism job website Hold the Front Page.
I was clearly working on too many different applications at once - trying to save time, using the same covering letter for two or three different e-mails. Be warned.
I left the wrong name on one of the letters, telling the editor of the Yorkshire Post, that I wanted to write stories about the people of West Lancashire to help him sell newspapers. The previous e-mail had gone to a small newspaper in Garstang near Blackpool.
Something tells me I won't be hearing back from the Post.
So for now, all I can do is sit by the phone waiting to hear from one of the recruitment agencies about temporary work and hit refresh every five minutes on my e-mails, hoping for a reply from one of the jobs I've applied for.
