Tag Archives: make-up

Interview nerves

Is it just me or are job interviews like blind dates? You need to make a dazzling impression in 3 seconds flat, you spend ages on your outfit and you practice your witty laugh and come-back comments in the mirror. I had an interview yesterday and I always reckon Friday interviews are a good bet – everyone’s looking forward to the weekend and we can just kick back and chill. Wouldn’t you know though, it was a job I applied for and promptly forgot about as I was only asked to submit my CV and a covering email. Yet I can spend hours and hours on carefully-crafted, 10-page long personal statements and not hear a peep.

I took an inordinate amount of time selecting a suitable outfit, painstakingly applied make-up so that it looked like I wasn’t wearing any, teased my unruly hair into bouncy waves and applied perfume very liberally. I read up on the company, memorised facts and wrote a few tiny crib notes on my wrist, carefully hidden under my watch. Unfortunately, as this whole process took over two hours, I downed gallons of coffee to steady my nerves. By the time I left the house, every nerve was buzzing, but, hey, I was on form, I was flying.

At the reception desk, a jaded receptionist slapped a very large ID sticker on my coat and commanded me to sit and wait until I was ‘collected’. I was then lead to the most open-plan office ever designed where the workers were handing round birthday cake, casting sad little glances in my direction,  as I huddled in the tiny corner sitting-area.

Finally I was called in to The Panel and an hour (an hour!) later, I was led back to the lift and sent on my way. I won’t be cracking open the Champagne just yet, but I think I have a good chance. If I am successful I get called back for a second, then a third interview, gulp. Wish me luck and watch this space…

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Friday…at last

Stumbling In Flats - life with multiple sclerosis I only work a couple of days a week, having dropped some hours (thanks, MS!) but I still get out-of-proportion excited whenever Friday rolls around. Only one problem with that. My expectations way exceed reality.

I sit there in work, idly scrolling through events listings, checking out the live music pages, the theatre, the cinema, new restaurant openings and all the rest of it. In my mind, I am dressed up like a goddess on steroids and even have some fabulously high heels on. My hair is swishy, my make-up is flawless and I have a zinging, Friday-night energy. I can picture myself surrounded by glossy, admiring friends, casually toasting each other in some brand-new bar, attracting envious yet welcoming stares from handsome men. I will be on top form, wowing my friends with fabulous stories gleaned over my busy week and perhaps impressing them by throwing a delicately-spiced wasabi nut in the air and catching it in my mouth.

Or I will be hanging out at the more alternative arts place, with my black polo neck and smart, slightly-distressd jeans on, accessorised with chunky, hand-made beads from a women’s collective in The Gambia. With my beret at a jaunty angle, I will toss out witty remarks, only pausing to applaud the experimental jazz band playing in the corner. We will drink Belgian-brewed gooseberry cider and dip artisan bread in olive oil flavoured with crushed Chilean peppers.

Which one do I choose? Well, neither. At the end of the week I am shattered, my sofa has been calling me and I just about have enough energy to peel the lid from a microwave meal. Oh, and childcare is a nightmare. The Teenager is at that awful age when he still needs a babysitter but doesn’t want one, unless she’s that blonde girl from the sixth form. The one with the big, you know. Brain.

So, the reality? Me, in pyjamas, facepack on, watching other people have fabulous nights out, on telly. Has no-one set up an events company, where they can bring the party to your house……?

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my make-up hates me

Stumbling In Flats – living with multiple sclerosisNo, really, it does. Not content with forcing me in to flat shoes, MS has also decided to rummage around in my make-up bag and make a mess of my face. If  it is a hot day, I carefully apply minimal make-up for work and when I check the mirror before I leave the house, I look just fine. Ok, you can see I’m wearing make-up and it’s pretty hard to get that ‘au natural’ look in your late 30’s anyhow. In the car, the air conditioning is primed to blast on cool. Park the car. Walk 30-odd metres to the door at work and blam – heat – bright red face. Really, really red, burning and hot. Heat intolerance! Not everyone with MS gets it, but I know it is one of the most annoying and inhibiting symptoms. We become vampires, staying indoors and only venturing outside after dark.

So, there I am, in work, trying to look professional, with a throbbing face, make-up sliding slowly south. I never understood what open pores were until my foundation popped out of them and mushed all over my face. As if this weren’t enough, MS has also decided to have a laugh with applying make-up. One of my last relapses involved my hands not working properly and shaking involuntarily – you can see where I’m going with this. So, rewind, it’s a cool day, I’m celebrating. I’m putting my make-up on for work, reaching for the eyeliner, start lining and I’m drawing on my eyeball. Wipe it off, try again. Beautiful line, just about done….go for the final flick…sheez. End up looking like the end of a very long night on the wine. Ok, try the lipstick. One side of lip done, and the other, yup, you’ve guessed it, all over my face. Scrub this off and repeat.

And finally, if it is a hot day and my hands don’t work – well,  Coco the Clown has nothing on me.

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