Today I had career coaching. I learnt I’m a secret castanet player with a love of coconuts and crap music. This was a transformative experience and one that will definitely enrich my CV and career prospects!
I set out in the morning, arrived early and grabbed a coffee and a danish. An overzealous lift of the plate saw my pastry shoot off onto the sofa next to me.
I made my way to my meeting and waited in reception (bit too long if I’m honest) and watched as the receptionist was as unhelpful as she could be to every visitor, basically dishing out ‘fuck this shit’ looks to everyone who inconvenienced her.
The lady I was meeting came down to collect me. I got off the low sofa and stepped forward to shake her hand and say hello. At which point the heal of my shoe got wedged under the sofa and as I moved forward my foot came completely free of it! There was a point where we both knew I was only continuing to hold her hand to steady myself back into my footwear!
Here’s how the career coaching conversation panned out and what I could have said that was more congruent!
Coach: ‘The purpose of today is to find out who you are’. My thought: Shit…really. We already know I can’t wear my shoes properly. What-else is there to know? What I said: ‘Great’.
Coach: ‘It’s an opportunity to ask any life questions you have in a safe environment’. My thought: I don’t really have any life questions since I had it validated that chickens do actually eat mice as I’d suspected. What I said: ‘Perfect’.
Coach: ‘Let’s get to know you, what’s your story?’ My thought: Have I got one, shit I don’t know. Can’t you just read my blog. I like animals…like a lot… I trap, neuter and release feral cats. I’m part of a local badger club. What I said: ‘Great’.
Coach: ‘What do you like doing?’ My thought: Stroking the cat’s snout gently while she’s sleeping and trying to follow her or my boy cat when they are out and about to see where they go and how long before they notice me. What I said: ‘Leading high-performing teams and driving organisational effectiveness’.
Coach: What would you do if you could?’ My thought: Wake, drink Presecco in bed upon immediately opening my eyes and stay in my dog pyjamas all day. What I said: ‘I want to get back working in a commercial, fast paced dynamic organisation’.
Coach: ‘What get’s you all fired up?’ My thought: Singing the Spanish bits to Madonna’s La Isla Bonita and pretending to snap castanets. Animals and coconuts. What I said: ‘Working in a progressive organisation and delivering value to the business’.
Coach: ‘When are you at your best?’ My thought: Dancing to Chain Reaction, Reet Petite or sniffing coffee now I can temporarily smell. What I said: Developing and leading high performing teams in a global, matrix organisation where I have full autonomy and can be an authentic leader.
Coach: ‘What do you fear?’ My thought: Bumping into someone I’ve de-friended. Running out of tigers. That dream I had where Hitler was looking for me, wanting me to be his secretary and I was hiding in a green wheelie bin.
Coach: ‘Have you thought about setting up on your own and any business ideas’? My thought: Should I tell her about ‘Letter blox’, my idea to revolutionise the humble letter box so it doesn’t accept junk mail…no…my nephew Dean, let’s call him that because that’s er, well, his name, told me never to verbalise it to anyone because ‘only a twat would’ because it’s a stupid idea. Primarily because it doesn’t work! What I said: ‘Not really’.
That all clear, she told me I basically needed to re-write my CV. At this point it was like being in bed with a dementor from Harry Potter as that bloody thing drains my peace, hope and happiness. A CV is soulless and evil! I would rather unload and re-stack the bloody dishwasher repeatedly and hoover properly even with the pipe than do that again! And the narrative of ‘it needs a bit of work’, did not mirror the amount of notes I took, which concluded, ‘re-write me’.
The only thing I could do to make it bearable was to go and write it right there and then. If I went home, I’d put Judge Rinder on and that would be it, other than trying to dodge the sad donkey day time TV appeal.
So I found a pub. Bit grubby, the sort of place where you just know the baked beans would be darker than they should be, and had a glass of wine and cracked on. My only distraction a bloke eating crisps noisily.
Having done my CV, it was free time. So, after walking around in a bookstore for no apparent reason, I came home.
Quick change of attire and Tony (husband) and I spent time trying to get the perfect picture of Winston (dog’s) bum cheeks that have grown since he has been growing out his fur for a competition. They have grown at such a rate, it’s like watching the speeded up version of what happened to my own arse between 30 and 40!
They are hilarious and we wanted to capture them for our future enjoyment (there’s probably a register for that). He was onto us though, he kept following his butt round in a tight circle following his turkey twizler but never letting us get a picture. Nonetheless we spent a joyous afternoon trying. This is the sort of shit you can do if you get your work-life balance just right! It gives life a real sense of meaning and purpose!