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!!!
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