It’s been almost eight months since I resigned from my last job and signed a contract to start my next one, making this gap between employment the longest in my 20 years since leaving university.  This extended period of unemployment was typical of what has turned out to be a unique year and not just for myself but for most of the UK population. The year had started rather normal, with the exception of the news in January that the company was to relocate. As I had no intention of driving round the M25 motorway twice daily, I reluctantly offered my resignation and started the process of finding a new job. I’d joined my, soon to be, ex-co-workers in a going away drink and said all my goodbyes, sharing a few tears in the process. Then I was two weeks in to looking for a new job when Covid19 changed everything.

Suddenly, like most governments around the world, the UK government brought in tough new lock-down measures on the movement of the population. I was told not to go out of my home, other than for essentials or for no more than one hour of exercise per day. This also meant that the interview process was now on hold by all the companies I had applied to. My ex-boss, called me up and was kind enough to place me on the furlough scheme, essentially saving me form economic disaster and meant I could afford to comply with the lock-down restrictions. This proves it pays to get along with people you work with, as I was able to be placed back on the payroll until July 31^st.  

And for the next few months the interview process stalled except for manual labour and rare opportunities that were over-subscribed. In the spirit of the time, I offered my services as a part-time NHS support worker, who, as of yet, hasn’t been called upon, but happy to do my bit, if asked. More practically, I became the unofficial gardener for a few people in the street who were a bit old or vulnerable and unable to get about as usual. I also did a shopping-run, though I often mixed up orders, and found a community spirit that the fear of Covid19 seemed to trigger in my neighbourhood. I’d lived in the street for four years and had never seen people helping each other and neighbours getting to know one another like this until the pandemic.

Eventually, around the beginning of July, the interviews did start to take place, first by phone and then webcam. The earliest of these were a great lesson in webcam etiquette and how to look one’s best with such low-resolution, poor lighting and usually at an awkward angle. But the first face-to-face interview came late with an architectural glass company, who provide bespoke glass facades for offices across Europe.  Here, I experienced my first age-related discrimination, when I was asked, “Do you own your own property?” by my would-be boss upon hearing I was 43 years of age. He showed some considerable reluctance to have the face-to-face, remarking, “There are many young people working in the sales team,” when he finally relented to the interview. I knew it was a waist of my time, as he had made it clear he didn’t want me, but I went along to get interviewing experience under my belt, having been so long on the sofa.  

A week later, saw two more interviews, one of these was a much-desired opportunity with a plumbing merchant, where a position as sales manager for the bathroom showroom had come available. In many ways I fitted this, from related experience to ability with the customers-base, so felt confident. After the now customary web-based preliminary interview, I had a face-to-face with the branch manager and we got along fine, which is half the battle. I demonstrated my product knowledge and know-how of the customer base, but half way through the Manager stated, “I want someone to do as I tell them, not tell me what to do,” having butted in to what I was saying. He then explained that there were over 30 people being considered, before bringing the interview to an abrupt end.  Needless to say, I didn’t get the job.

A few days later, I got a face-to-face with another plumbing merchant’s, and was rejected by email, just as I was thinking I had done well. After almost 60 applications and only a handful of interviews, it was becoming clear there were many people in the job market and I was finding getting a job harder than at any other time in my life.  It’s a tough market right now and employers are aware of this, so I had to knock some money form my asking basic wage. Something I have heard a number of people have been doing.

Meanwhile, I continued my search, with at least five completed applications per day, before being attracted to an advert for a technical sales specialist role working for a small wall-fixing company based in Winnersh. When I say small, I mean a small staff count, yet a large global operation. There were seventeen other candidates in the first round, which I was pleased to say went well for me; lasting up to three hours in the interview. I wasn’t sure if I had bored them to submission or if the interview had gone that well that we had all forgotten the time. I was relieved to see I was called almost a week later to be told I was in the last three and asked back for a final interview. Even though it seemed my efforts were paying off, I had a creeping fear that I may be several months without employment, due to the increasing number of people joining the unemployment que.

Then, last week, I received two offers; the first wasn’t compatible, so was declined, but the second was great news indeed. The wall-fixing company had liked me and wanted to offer me the role. I was, of course, delighted. It is a role I can do well and also leaves room for development and progression within the company and industry as a whole. Indeed, the culture, the people, even the commute seem just right. So why did I continue the jobs search? Simply I wanted to see if there were any other options before this one was made the permanent choice. I had two other final interviews and I was not going to jettison the possibility of something potentially greater in a tough market, having put so much effort in to getting this far.

The first of these final interviews was with a washing machine company, dealing with the technical sales aspects, but the MD remarked, “I thought you were younger on the phone.” This was the second time age was an issue and set the tone for his ultimate rejection. While the last of the final interviews was with a large construction firm, who wanted to pay me less than they had advertised the job for, so neither turned out to be a rival to the preferred option.

And so, after informing many job-boards, agencies and company’s I’d contacted, that I was no longer in the market, I gleefully signed the paperwork for my contract with the new job at the wall-fixing company. There will be much to learn and I’m sure it will be a challenge to get back to the working day-job having spent eight months not getting up for a job, but the reality is, (and I suspect most of the population are in this with me) I need the structure of the job and a career to give me a sense of purpose, so I gratefully welcome the chance to get back on my bike.