Throughout the whole of September I was getting frustrated and fed up with waiting. I had found out at my friends wedding that her Brother-In-Law had already had his medical assessment, 2 weeks after his fitness test. I was so annoyed that my appointment was so much later, 6 weeks after his. Well I guess it serves me right for being so fussy and wanting a Monday or Friday assessment date, just so I didn't have to book an odd day off from work in the middle of the week. At least with it being on a Friday I could have a long weekend visiting my family for a change! The only good news I have had this month is a letter from the bank; I have at last paid off one of my student debts, I am therefore a Not So Skint Graduate now!!
It is around here that all the news about police officers blogs come about. Yes, I am obviously a copy cat, but at least this blog focuses more on application to the police, in my still naive and innocent state of pre police officer training. Not like many of the sarcastic and grumpy police officers who already have blogs. Spending my time waiting in the run up to the medical I have time to look through some of the other police officers blogs and even read ‘Diary of an on call girl’, which I find very funny and insightful. I then create this little piece of online blog space, not sure if anyone will ever read it, but at least it helps me vent some frustration with all the waiting I have been doing. According to PC Bloggs, waiting is an art best learnt quickly as a police officer. I think I may have cracked it already!!
28 September 2007
August 2007 Fitness Test
For the last 7 months four friends and I had been planning a Summer Ball in memory of a friend killed by a ‘drug driver’ in a car accident, we use the ball as an excuse to raise lots of money for a charity in South Africa too. It was getting closer and I am getting busier and more stressed with it all.
I received a letter at last telling me that my Fitness Test date had come through, yippy, that means I passed the Assessment Centre. I make what seems like hundreds of calls to my family telling them that I have basically got in. The hard part is over. There is not really that much physically wrong with me so the fitness test and medical should not be a problem. And to my knowledge I am not a terrorist nor have been involved in any sort of crime that would fail my security checks. When I tell Dad over the phone I can literally visualise him punching the air as he shouts ‘yes, well done girl’ down the phone at me.
However, the fitness test is the same day as the Summer Ball. Do I reschedule the fitness test or just go for it? I call up the recruitment team and ask them when the next fitness tests will be, not till November. Humm, sod it, I will go on the Saturday before racing back to decorate the Hall and then throwing on a dress for the Ball.
Like I said, the ball was getting close, as was the fitness test and I suddenly come down with a sore throat and heavy chest. I rush to the doctors, I CANNOT be ill this week! The very nice Doc tells me to take the rest of the week off work and rest up. Apparently I am run down and my body needs sleep and I need to relax. Yeah, like there is any chance of that happening. I do take 2 days off however.
Test Day
Up and out nice and early I race to the station for my scheduled and pre-booked train. I am no a tight time schedule today. If anything over runs that will make everything late! Putting my trust like this into the Great British Rail service turns out to be a very silly thing to have done. As the train arrives at halfway station (1hr into the journey) an announcement is made telling everyone we will be sat there for 45 minutes as the police have closed the lines ahead. Great! I make an emergency call to my dearest Daddy who comes flying to the rescue (how useful he only lives 10 mins away). Then I call the recruitment team, no answer, so I call another number. The poor guy has no idea what I am talking about, I tell him it is imperative that he gets a message to the recruitment team or fitness instructor to tell them I am late. Dad pulls up and I jump in. I call the police recruitment number again and this time get someone who seems to know what I am talking about. 3 minutes later I get a call telling me not to worry lots of people are running late, so they have put my test back an hour! This is partly a good thing, and partly bad. I will now miss my return train.
Fitness!! If you can call it that. A warm up, light jog and some stretches. Then the dreaded bleep test, wow this chest infection / run down illness thing has really taken it out of me. However, I successfully get to the level required (which is well below my average (8.5) and even further below my personal best (10.4, aged 15)). Then I am the first to be called into a tiny room where a strange looking bit of gym equipment awaits me. The push and pull test! I am not sure I got the timing right and not even sure I pushed enough weight, I had my eyes closed with all the effort I was putting in.
The Fitness Instructor comes out after testing everyone and congratulates us all on passing. I am just leaving off when a random guy walks in and says ‘sorry I am late, the trains were delayed. I am here to do the fitness test’. I giggle to myself knowingly as I rush down the stairs.
Back into Dads car, back to the train station and jump onto a train luckily with no ticket check. 1 hours later I rush home, run to the venue an hour late, help finish off the decorations. Then home, shower, throw on an old shirt and drive the hair dressers. While she does my hair while I do my make up and we have a good gossip, but she does burn my ear on the tongs, OUCH! Then home again, where all my friends are already drinking, put on my dress and shoes where they have been neatly laid out for the last two days. And then the Taxi arrives. Rush over, we held an amazing ball for 300 people and raised nearly £8,000 for the charity. All in all a very productive day!
I received a letter at last telling me that my Fitness Test date had come through, yippy, that means I passed the Assessment Centre. I make what seems like hundreds of calls to my family telling them that I have basically got in. The hard part is over. There is not really that much physically wrong with me so the fitness test and medical should not be a problem. And to my knowledge I am not a terrorist nor have been involved in any sort of crime that would fail my security checks. When I tell Dad over the phone I can literally visualise him punching the air as he shouts ‘yes, well done girl’ down the phone at me.
However, the fitness test is the same day as the Summer Ball. Do I reschedule the fitness test or just go for it? I call up the recruitment team and ask them when the next fitness tests will be, not till November. Humm, sod it, I will go on the Saturday before racing back to decorate the Hall and then throwing on a dress for the Ball.
Like I said, the ball was getting close, as was the fitness test and I suddenly come down with a sore throat and heavy chest. I rush to the doctors, I CANNOT be ill this week! The very nice Doc tells me to take the rest of the week off work and rest up. Apparently I am run down and my body needs sleep and I need to relax. Yeah, like there is any chance of that happening. I do take 2 days off however.
Test Day
Up and out nice and early I race to the station for my scheduled and pre-booked train. I am no a tight time schedule today. If anything over runs that will make everything late! Putting my trust like this into the Great British Rail service turns out to be a very silly thing to have done. As the train arrives at halfway station (1hr into the journey) an announcement is made telling everyone we will be sat there for 45 minutes as the police have closed the lines ahead. Great! I make an emergency call to my dearest Daddy who comes flying to the rescue (how useful he only lives 10 mins away). Then I call the recruitment team, no answer, so I call another number. The poor guy has no idea what I am talking about, I tell him it is imperative that he gets a message to the recruitment team or fitness instructor to tell them I am late. Dad pulls up and I jump in. I call the police recruitment number again and this time get someone who seems to know what I am talking about. 3 minutes later I get a call telling me not to worry lots of people are running late, so they have put my test back an hour! This is partly a good thing, and partly bad. I will now miss my return train.
Fitness!! If you can call it that. A warm up, light jog and some stretches. Then the dreaded bleep test, wow this chest infection / run down illness thing has really taken it out of me. However, I successfully get to the level required (which is well below my average (8.5) and even further below my personal best (10.4, aged 15)). Then I am the first to be called into a tiny room where a strange looking bit of gym equipment awaits me. The push and pull test! I am not sure I got the timing right and not even sure I pushed enough weight, I had my eyes closed with all the effort I was putting in.
The Fitness Instructor comes out after testing everyone and congratulates us all on passing. I am just leaving off when a random guy walks in and says ‘sorry I am late, the trains were delayed. I am here to do the fitness test’. I giggle to myself knowingly as I rush down the stairs.
Back into Dads car, back to the train station and jump onto a train luckily with no ticket check. 1 hours later I rush home, run to the venue an hour late, help finish off the decorations. Then home, shower, throw on an old shirt and drive the hair dressers. While she does my hair while I do my make up and we have a good gossip, but she does burn my ear on the tongs, OUCH! Then home again, where all my friends are already drinking, put on my dress and shoes where they have been neatly laid out for the last two days. And then the Taxi arrives. Rush over, we held an amazing ball for 300 people and raised nearly £8,000 for the charity. All in all a very productive day!
June 2007 Assessment Centre
Pre-Assessment Centre Briefing.
Lucky for me I had holiday booked for two weeks. So the Pre-Assessment Centre Briefing fell right in the middle of the holiday. It meant that my holiday plans had to change, but at least I didn't have to make excuses at work or book more time off.
As I queued up outside of the meeting room, I spotted one of my good friends future brother-in-law. It seemed strange, the last time I saw him was probably when we were teenagers. There were about 50 people in the room, most had arrived on time, in smart suits, though one or two I spotted were sporting jeans or trackies, not very professional I thought. We sat through the briefing, frantically scribbling down notes on every word of advice they gave us.
Most of these potential future police officers seemed around my age, in their 20’s. I was one of about 9 females in the room, a poor resemblance to the real life male to female ratio I thought. I recall sitting there weighing up my chances of passing all the entry requirements and how I would compare to the others. I felt sure that some of the other girls in the room were unlikely to pass the strength test during the fitness assessment, particularly the girl in 4 inch stiletto’s, a very short skirt and low cut top, with a perfect manicure and makeup. Here I was in a trouser suit, flat pumps and no makeup and broken nails from last weeks rugby training.
So fully prepared from the briefing I trotted outside to my Dad. The now recently retired Inspector was waiting in the car park full of interrogation questions for me all the way back to his place. ‘Yes Dad, No Dad, I don’t know Dad, I will have to wait till the Assessment Centre Dad’. This questioning was a fairly regular treatment in my childhood I had nearly forgotten about it since leaving home. I guess if I get into the police I will learn to be just as skilled and annoying as he is at interrogating questions and lie detection.
The Big Day.
I have booked my train ticket in advance and am so very nervous. My train gets delayed and I have to run to get a cab as I come out of the station. Luckily I get to the police Assessment Centre in time, to be sat in reception and told to wait.
Eventually we are escorted through to an examination room where we are divided into groups. There is 1 other female in my group of 8. We are now taken to the old accommodation block where were are squeezed into a tiny room before being interviewed one on one, then assessed in role plays. I hadn’t been very worried about this stage of the assessments. However, it was horrid. I couldn’t think of examples to use for my answers in the one on one interview. I then lost my words and felt unprepared in the role plays. Surely I was not going to pass, these were timed interviews and after every question they kept telling me I still had time spare – arr panic I must say something, and some random repeat of what I have just said blurts out of my mouth. What an idiot, I emerge from the room glad to see the red faces of the other interviewees; thank goodness I am not the only one who found that hard!!
We are then taken back to the exam room to sit several long paper based examinations. This is the bit I have been dreading. The Pre-Assessment Briefing had made me very nervous about this. Only up to 4 spelling or grammatical errors are allowed, or you will fail. You must score a least a minimum % in all tests put together to pass. My ‘specific learning difficulty’ could really cause me a problem, I just got to try and not use any long words and stick to the basics, just like they told us to.
After 5 whole hours of being assessed I am absolutely shattered, physically and mentally. So I head off to the pub to meet up with some old school friends for dinner and drinks, a good way to relax after such a long and tiring day. I then head home on the 2 hour train journey and yet another long wait to find out if I passed. Fingers Crossed!!
Lucky for me I had holiday booked for two weeks. So the Pre-Assessment Centre Briefing fell right in the middle of the holiday. It meant that my holiday plans had to change, but at least I didn't have to make excuses at work or book more time off.
As I queued up outside of the meeting room, I spotted one of my good friends future brother-in-law. It seemed strange, the last time I saw him was probably when we were teenagers. There were about 50 people in the room, most had arrived on time, in smart suits, though one or two I spotted were sporting jeans or trackies, not very professional I thought. We sat through the briefing, frantically scribbling down notes on every word of advice they gave us.
Most of these potential future police officers seemed around my age, in their 20’s. I was one of about 9 females in the room, a poor resemblance to the real life male to female ratio I thought. I recall sitting there weighing up my chances of passing all the entry requirements and how I would compare to the others. I felt sure that some of the other girls in the room were unlikely to pass the strength test during the fitness assessment, particularly the girl in 4 inch stiletto’s, a very short skirt and low cut top, with a perfect manicure and makeup. Here I was in a trouser suit, flat pumps and no makeup and broken nails from last weeks rugby training.
So fully prepared from the briefing I trotted outside to my Dad. The now recently retired Inspector was waiting in the car park full of interrogation questions for me all the way back to his place. ‘Yes Dad, No Dad, I don’t know Dad, I will have to wait till the Assessment Centre Dad’. This questioning was a fairly regular treatment in my childhood I had nearly forgotten about it since leaving home. I guess if I get into the police I will learn to be just as skilled and annoying as he is at interrogating questions and lie detection.
The Big Day.
I have booked my train ticket in advance and am so very nervous. My train gets delayed and I have to run to get a cab as I come out of the station. Luckily I get to the police Assessment Centre in time, to be sat in reception and told to wait.
Eventually we are escorted through to an examination room where we are divided into groups. There is 1 other female in my group of 8. We are now taken to the old accommodation block where were are squeezed into a tiny room before being interviewed one on one, then assessed in role plays. I hadn’t been very worried about this stage of the assessments. However, it was horrid. I couldn’t think of examples to use for my answers in the one on one interview. I then lost my words and felt unprepared in the role plays. Surely I was not going to pass, these were timed interviews and after every question they kept telling me I still had time spare – arr panic I must say something, and some random repeat of what I have just said blurts out of my mouth. What an idiot, I emerge from the room glad to see the red faces of the other interviewees; thank goodness I am not the only one who found that hard!!
We are then taken back to the exam room to sit several long paper based examinations. This is the bit I have been dreading. The Pre-Assessment Briefing had made me very nervous about this. Only up to 4 spelling or grammatical errors are allowed, or you will fail. You must score a least a minimum % in all tests put together to pass. My ‘specific learning difficulty’ could really cause me a problem, I just got to try and not use any long words and stick to the basics, just like they told us to.
After 5 whole hours of being assessed I am absolutely shattered, physically and mentally. So I head off to the pub to meet up with some old school friends for dinner and drinks, a good way to relax after such a long and tiring day. I then head home on the 2 hour train journey and yet another long wait to find out if I passed. Fingers Crossed!!
May 2007 Letters
Great news, I passed the initial application paper sift, however, to progress my application to the next stage they require an educational psychologist report referring to my disability of having dyslexia. Now that is a task, if you recall the number of times I have moved house, somehow now I had to locate the old document with details of my assessment from when I was in college. I checked in all my boxes and folders at home but as I had guessed it wasn’t there. Then I hunted through my Mum’s attic and all the boxes marked with my name with no success. At last I search though all boxes at my Dad’s house, and with success. I even found a report that was written during my cross channel swim, each member of the team received a copy but I had totally forgotten about it. I posted off a copy of the educational psychologists report and related documents to the Police recruitment team.
A couple of weeks later I get a letter telling me that as the report does not state that I have dyslexia and only says that I have ‘specific learning difficulties’ then I am not eligible for any special assessment procedures. I wrote back a very polite letter saying that, ‘I never wanted special treatment and I had stated this on my application, therefore, please proceeds my application to the next stage.’
Again there seemed like another very long wait, but finally I received a letter in early June. Well more like a very large pack. This included a letter inviting me to attend the Assessment Centre interview. Another inviting me to attend a pre-assessment centre briefing. Directions, the assessment centre packs and general information about the procedures from now on.
I was over the moon!! I called my Mum and then Dad and told them both the good news. I didn’t tell any of my friends still, there was still a good chance I wouldn’t pass the assessment centre stage. Again it was back to the library and this time I took home some many books on policing that I nearly fell off my bike riding with such a heavy bag on the handlebars, at this point I decided to walk instead!!
A couple of weeks later I get a letter telling me that as the report does not state that I have dyslexia and only says that I have ‘specific learning difficulties’ then I am not eligible for any special assessment procedures. I wrote back a very polite letter saying that, ‘I never wanted special treatment and I had stated this on my application, therefore, please proceeds my application to the next stage.’
Again there seemed like another very long wait, but finally I received a letter in early June. Well more like a very large pack. This included a letter inviting me to attend the Assessment Centre interview. Another inviting me to attend a pre-assessment centre briefing. Directions, the assessment centre packs and general information about the procedures from now on.
I was over the moon!! I called my Mum and then Dad and told them both the good news. I didn’t tell any of my friends still, there was still a good chance I wouldn’t pass the assessment centre stage. Again it was back to the library and this time I took home some many books on policing that I nearly fell off my bike riding with such a heavy bag on the handlebars, at this point I decided to walk instead!!
26 September 2007
Skint Graduate Year 3. Part 2 Dreaming Away
By March 2007 the situation at work in the office was getting worse, people were talking about leaving left right and centre. Although we had escaped the 2nd round of redundancies, it had given everyone the spooks. I decide to keep an eye out still for another job. If everyone else if going to leave then there won’t be anyone left to run the business anyway! I am loving my job again now, really very busy, but not happy with the attitude of everyone else. The moral is rock bottom. Taking a deep breath I decide to step into the directors office and tell them how I am feeling and about the attitude and moral amongst the team. Do I push it and ask for a pay rise as well?
No need, she calls me back half an hour later and tells me I am getting a pay rise. Fantastic. At least that stops me from looking at other jobs for a while, and I am at last, 3 years after graduating, now earning just over the threshold for the government to start taking monthly payments out of my wages towards my Student Loan. This is a big occasion, my dreams of paying off some of my debt may now be possible, though a long way off! After 3 years at university I managed to rack up around £16,000 of debt. It is only in the last year or so that it has been sinking in how much this is and how hard I will need to work to pay it off.
May 2007 a letter arrives from the Police. A sinking feeling inside as I think, not another rejection! To my surprise and joy they tell me I have successfully passed the initial paper sift. After a 3 month wait I finally had some good news! What a month!!!
No need, she calls me back half an hour later and tells me I am getting a pay rise. Fantastic. At least that stops me from looking at other jobs for a while, and I am at last, 3 years after graduating, now earning just over the threshold for the government to start taking monthly payments out of my wages towards my Student Loan. This is a big occasion, my dreams of paying off some of my debt may now be possible, though a long way off! After 3 years at university I managed to rack up around £16,000 of debt. It is only in the last year or so that it has been sinking in how much this is and how hard I will need to work to pay it off.
May 2007 a letter arrives from the Police. A sinking feeling inside as I think, not another rejection! To my surprise and joy they tell me I have successfully passed the initial paper sift. After a 3 month wait I finally had some good news! What a month!!!
Skint Graduate Year 3. Part 1 Nightmares
September 2006, redundancies at work put everyone on edge! 12 out of 42 members of staff are laid off. Luckily my work in the office is not affected, the cuts were made to warehouse staff. Apparently this is an area of business we don’t need anymore!
Panic sets in a little and few people start looking for other jobs. I decide to have a browse in the paper and come across an Immigration Officer position. I decide to apply for it on the off chance, but am not really too keen, my heart is still set on getting into the police. I just have to wait a few more months before I can re-apply.
January 2007, more redundancies, this time everyone is at risk. We are all asked to attend a review type meeting and put forward our ideas and a reason why the company should keep us on. I know there is a 50% chance I will be asked to go, there are 2 of us doing administration based jobs and they really only need one.
This time I am also caught up in the panic of will I have a job next month. After having no success with the previous application to the Immigration service I am now looking for anything, ideally with a better salary than this and long-term prospects. I get in touch with a few of my old recruitment consultant friends who get me a couple of interviews, non of which really take my fancy, again all boring office jobs with no career prospects. Luckily I scrap by and manage to keep my job, though with double the workload now.
Talking to Dad one night about how miserable I was feeling he tells me his local Police constabulary are as desperately seeking more staff. ‘They all keep transferring to the MET.’ he tells me. I say I am not sure I can apply just yet as it’s only been a few months since I was turned. However, I get straight online and find that I can and do re-apply for the role of Police Officer in my home county. This time however, I take the questions to Dad and ask him to read over my application form. I went to stay with him for a weekend and we spent most the time trying to think of new situations for me to use. Wording was changed, and I could draw on more experience since doing my new role in Logistics and having helped out my rugby club behind the bar.
My application form definitely looked like an improvement on the previous one 9 months ago. Although the same questions I had more experience and research into policing behind me now. The form was sent off online in February 2007. I only tell my direct family and boyfriend about this application and ask them not to say anything, I don’t want to feel bad again if I don’t get through – there is after all an 80% failure rate!
Lets hope I hear from them soon, this job is seeming more and more insecure and I don't want another office job, doing boring admin. What a nightmare!!
Panic sets in a little and few people start looking for other jobs. I decide to have a browse in the paper and come across an Immigration Officer position. I decide to apply for it on the off chance, but am not really too keen, my heart is still set on getting into the police. I just have to wait a few more months before I can re-apply.
January 2007, more redundancies, this time everyone is at risk. We are all asked to attend a review type meeting and put forward our ideas and a reason why the company should keep us on. I know there is a 50% chance I will be asked to go, there are 2 of us doing administration based jobs and they really only need one.
This time I am also caught up in the panic of will I have a job next month. After having no success with the previous application to the Immigration service I am now looking for anything, ideally with a better salary than this and long-term prospects. I get in touch with a few of my old recruitment consultant friends who get me a couple of interviews, non of which really take my fancy, again all boring office jobs with no career prospects. Luckily I scrap by and manage to keep my job, though with double the workload now.
Talking to Dad one night about how miserable I was feeling he tells me his local Police constabulary are as desperately seeking more staff. ‘They all keep transferring to the MET.’ he tells me. I say I am not sure I can apply just yet as it’s only been a few months since I was turned. However, I get straight online and find that I can and do re-apply for the role of Police Officer in my home county. This time however, I take the questions to Dad and ask him to read over my application form. I went to stay with him for a weekend and we spent most the time trying to think of new situations for me to use. Wording was changed, and I could draw on more experience since doing my new role in Logistics and having helped out my rugby club behind the bar.
My application form definitely looked like an improvement on the previous one 9 months ago. Although the same questions I had more experience and research into policing behind me now. The form was sent off online in February 2007. I only tell my direct family and boyfriend about this application and ask them not to say anything, I don’t want to feel bad again if I don’t get through – there is after all an 80% failure rate!
Lets hope I hear from them soon, this job is seeming more and more insecure and I don't want another office job, doing boring admin. What a nightmare!!
25 September 2007
Skint Graduate Year 2. Police Ambitions!
In March/April 2006 I finally got myself sorted. With a new permanent job as a Sales & Logistics Coordinator for a local business and a new boyfriend I was feeling better in myself. I went to the library and booked out a book on how to get into the police. After much reading I finally sent off the online application form for the local Police constabulary. I had spent ages trying to complete the questions, drafting and re-drafting. It was a very long and difficult process, trying to think of situations I had been in that gave me experience to answer the questions.
When had I challenged someone’s behaviour that was bullying?
How had I worked with others to get something done? Had I ever been in a challenging or difficult situation and had to make a decision? Had I ever had to tell a person something that they might not understand or find upsetting?
My mind just seemed to draw a blank and it made me feel inexperienced and as though I had led a rather secluded life, though this was far from the truth.
Then there were the security questions. You want ALL my address for the past how many years! A word of advise, if you ever want to get into the police, or even get a loan/mortgage (as I have recently learned this affects your credit rating too) don’t go to university and move house every 9 months to a year like I did. Tell your parents to keep all your mail going to their address (hoping that they will not move house too). I had to provide details of 8 addresses in all, trying to remember postcodes for all these was a nightmare, thank goodness for Royal Mails postcode finder.
I told all my friends and family that my application had been sent off and I got stuck into my new job. Actually very interesting and very busy which was great. Just a shame the money wasn’t all that great, I still wasn’t earning enough to start paying off my Student Loan.
Late Summer 2006 I receive a letter informing me that my application to the local Police Constabulary for the role of Police Office had been rejected. I had nearly forgotten about the application by now, I had been waiting nearly 4 months to hear. I was totally gutted, I didn’t tell my family for about two weeks after. It was only due to Mum asking me if I had heard anything. I just tried to blow it off, ‘Oh yeah, that. No I didn’t get in. Probably ‘coz I am not a local girl. Never mind.’ Struggling hard to hold back tears of disappointment, failure again. How could they not want me, with my policing background and my confident, outgoing nature and great communication skills?
They were kind enough to provide a full breakdown of how I scored. Apparently my written communication skills were the best part of the whole application, scoring an A grade. Well at least all those extra classes my parents paid for to help me with my dyslexia had paid off! The rest of the answers varied between B-D grades. Apparently if you get a D grade in anything that is an automatic failure.
I managed to put it all behind me as life started getting a lot busier. I needed to find a new place to live. My housemates were starting to annoy me, using my room as spare bed for their mates at weekends when I went back to visit family (shared houses with strangers never works out). Also a friend was moving here for University for a year to study for a Postgraduate degree. I said I would find somewhere cheap and near to the Uni. Cheap however does not come in a 2 bed house in this city. I searched high and low for months in all letting agents and news papers. Eventually my boyfriend of just 5 months said he would move with us to help with the finances. We finally found it – a spacious 3 double bedroom house with off street parking and a garage. Rent would be nice and cheap at under £200 each, bargain!!!
When had I challenged someone’s behaviour that was bullying?
How had I worked with others to get something done? Had I ever been in a challenging or difficult situation and had to make a decision? Had I ever had to tell a person something that they might not understand or find upsetting?
My mind just seemed to draw a blank and it made me feel inexperienced and as though I had led a rather secluded life, though this was far from the truth.
Then there were the security questions. You want ALL my address for the past how many years! A word of advise, if you ever want to get into the police, or even get a loan/mortgage (as I have recently learned this affects your credit rating too) don’t go to university and move house every 9 months to a year like I did. Tell your parents to keep all your mail going to their address (hoping that they will not move house too). I had to provide details of 8 addresses in all, trying to remember postcodes for all these was a nightmare, thank goodness for Royal Mails postcode finder.
I told all my friends and family that my application had been sent off and I got stuck into my new job. Actually very interesting and very busy which was great. Just a shame the money wasn’t all that great, I still wasn’t earning enough to start paying off my Student Loan.
Late Summer 2006 I receive a letter informing me that my application to the local Police Constabulary for the role of Police Office had been rejected. I had nearly forgotten about the application by now, I had been waiting nearly 4 months to hear. I was totally gutted, I didn’t tell my family for about two weeks after. It was only due to Mum asking me if I had heard anything. I just tried to blow it off, ‘Oh yeah, that. No I didn’t get in. Probably ‘coz I am not a local girl. Never mind.’ Struggling hard to hold back tears of disappointment, failure again. How could they not want me, with my policing background and my confident, outgoing nature and great communication skills?
They were kind enough to provide a full breakdown of how I scored. Apparently my written communication skills were the best part of the whole application, scoring an A grade. Well at least all those extra classes my parents paid for to help me with my dyslexia had paid off! The rest of the answers varied between B-D grades. Apparently if you get a D grade in anything that is an automatic failure.
I managed to put it all behind me as life started getting a lot busier. I needed to find a new place to live. My housemates were starting to annoy me, using my room as spare bed for their mates at weekends when I went back to visit family (shared houses with strangers never works out). Also a friend was moving here for University for a year to study for a Postgraduate degree. I said I would find somewhere cheap and near to the Uni. Cheap however does not come in a 2 bed house in this city. I searched high and low for months in all letting agents and news papers. Eventually my boyfriend of just 5 months said he would move with us to help with the finances. We finally found it – a spacious 3 double bedroom house with off street parking and a garage. Rent would be nice and cheap at under £200 each, bargain!!!
24 September 2007
Skint Graduate Year 1. Finding My Way!
2004 - After graduating with a BSc Hons in Sport Science I spent a summer working in Greece. In December of 2004 I took a job as a recruitment consultant. With my outgoing, bubbly character and good education apparently I was exactly the type of person they were looking for. Good with people and with great communication skills I was trained intensively to become a hard working, go getting, pushy sales person. It seemed like I worked all hours possible, early starts, late finishes. No time for a personal life and constantly stressed and upset with my poor performance at work. After 9 months I decided I could not continue doing a job that made me so unhappy. I got a job as a temp, doing very dull administration work at a local university. To be honest I was not sure what was worse, doing dull admin or being stressed and too busy as a consultant.
Christmas Eve 2005, my temp job was finished and I still did not have work confirmed for the start of the new year. I was upset with the situation I had got myself into and feeling totally fed up. My Dad took me and my siblings out for a drive and to visit our Grandmother, who unfortunately I very rarely get to see anymore since leaving home. Dad was talking away in the car about his job and how he got started in it. It sounded exciting and interesting. It suddenly dawned on me that I was imagining myself doing his job, as a Police Officer. Something I do not think I had ever done before.
Dad had been in the Police forever! He and Mum met when they were cadets. Though Mum had left a few years later, Dad had carried on and was now an Inspector. I started asking him questions about the job and if he thought I could do it. I was surprised by his reaction saying he thought I would be very good at it as I had such good people skills, along with a list of other attributes he thought suitable to being a Police Officer. So January came and I got another 3 month Temp job. Again in Admin.
I started looking into careers in the police and other areas such as immigration and customs. I applied for a couple of jobs but was unsuccessful. The local paper was advertising for Community Support Officers, so I got an application form. Then I saw that they were trying to recruit for Officers too. I printed the application form and started to draft my answers to the questions.
Christmas Eve 2005, my temp job was finished and I still did not have work confirmed for the start of the new year. I was upset with the situation I had got myself into and feeling totally fed up. My Dad took me and my siblings out for a drive and to visit our Grandmother, who unfortunately I very rarely get to see anymore since leaving home. Dad was talking away in the car about his job and how he got started in it. It sounded exciting and interesting. It suddenly dawned on me that I was imagining myself doing his job, as a Police Officer. Something I do not think I had ever done before.
Dad had been in the Police forever! He and Mum met when they were cadets. Though Mum had left a few years later, Dad had carried on and was now an Inspector. I started asking him questions about the job and if he thought I could do it. I was surprised by his reaction saying he thought I would be very good at it as I had such good people skills, along with a list of other attributes he thought suitable to being a Police Officer. So January came and I got another 3 month Temp job. Again in Admin.
I started looking into careers in the police and other areas such as immigration and customs. I applied for a couple of jobs but was unsuccessful. The local paper was advertising for Community Support Officers, so I got an application form. Then I saw that they were trying to recruit for Officers too. I printed the application form and started to draft my answers to the questions.
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