A Short Journey To Explain A Long Journey

Mummy and Daddy were on holiday with my grandparents when I was offered the job, and having waiting two weeks it seemed silly to just tell them over the phone, so I drove down to Sussex to tell them and Sister-Girl in person.

On Saturday morning I went out horse-riding on the South Downs with Sister-Girl and Roy-Friend, then had lunch back at the parents' house all together. I was just about bursting to tell them by then, and since there is no easy way to say, 'Hi, so, you know I've been really busy for the last couple of months? Well, I'm moving to Antarctica', that was pretty much what I said. They were suitably delighted and we got the atlas out and I was then given a thorough grilling. With hindsight it would have been better to wait until the end of the meal as I didn't really get to eat anything as I was answering questions.

With the cat out of the bag I could tell everyone else and received responses which usually fell into two categories, either 'Why on Earth would you want to do that?', or 'Can I come too?'.

With two months to go before starting at Cambridge I thought I had a long time to get organised and packed, but needless to say it went remarkably quickly, and the parents were very accommodating as I filled their attic with boxes.

Team Awesome Is Formed

Geek-Boy had been offered his job the day after his interview, so after a day had passed, and with my appalling performance anyway, I was pretty down in the dumps and had all but given up. Geek-Boy said he'd drive down after work on Friday to cheer me up. Imagine my surprise then, late on Friday afternoon when my mobile rings, and it is a Cambridge number on the screen. Much like with the envelope I knew really it could only mean one thing, but my heart was in my mouth once again as I answered. The lady seemed a bit shocked when I burst into tears as she made the offer, and told me to take the weekend to think about it. It didn't really take a lot of thinking about, but then I realise that I might not have seemed particularly rational at that point.

This would have saved Geek-Boy a 2.5 hour drive down to console me, if he his phone had been switched on. Since it wasn't, and by the time I could try phoning him again he would probably have already set off anyway, I decided to wait and tell him in person. He finally arrived and was being sympathetic and loving, but not actually listening to me, so I had to grab him by the shoulders and shout, 'I'M COMING TOO!'. The look on his face was priceless - I wish I'd had a camera - and then jolliness ensured. He just kept saying, 'Awesome, that is just awesome. Awesome' and bouncing around. We'd worked so hard together as a team to both get to this stage that we decided our team should have an official name, and Team Awesome was formed.

I have no idea what we did for the rest of the weekend, except that we probably talked about Antarctica a lot.

Interview Day

With my head filled to the brim with Antarctic and meteorological information, and my best (okay, only) suit on, I set off on the 2 hour drive to Cambridge. I was listening to Absolute Radio who played my favourite song of the time, MGMT's 'Time To Pretend'. I took this to be a good sign, because clearly the playlist of a radio station several hundred miles away must have some influence on the decision of the interview panel...

I parked up about early and proceeded to re-read all of my notes. At this point I realised that my grey fluffy cardigan, which I'd worn to keep warm, had shed fur all over my black suit. Being a practical kind of girl I wrapped my hands in inside-out electrical tape (because clearly everyone keeps some in the car door) and tried to create some kind of clothes-roller. I only got a few weird looks from passers-by, and then got back in the car to carry on reading. A little later I got out to head over to my interview and realised the cardigan had not only shed over me, but also the car seat which I'd sat back down on, and I was covered in grey fluff again. Repeat the strange sticky-black-handed-wipe-down-dance. Head over to interview.

I felt pretty confident. I'd read pretty much everything I could find, pestered anyone I knew who knew anything about Antarctica, gone through endless scenarios with Geek-Boy about what might happen down there and what they might ask. I didn't really feel there was anything I could have done, short of taking one of the interview panel hostage and quizzing them - something that I did briefly consider.

This feeling of confidence evaporated suddenly as I did what, in my opinion, was one of the worst interviews I've ever done. First, I had to wait for about 30 minutes before being called through, then there was an unexpected exam/test thing which threw me a bit, and then another long wait, and then the interview itself, during which I forgot all but my name, and even that was touch and go at times. Still, they all seemed nice, so it wasn't scary in that respect, and afterwards there was a tour around the facilities and science kit, which was interesting. I left thinking that if nothing else, I'd seen some shiny equipment, and would be better prepared for applying again next year.

Backstory

Today was the closing date for my job application for the post of Antarctic Meteorologist with the British Antarctic Survey. My application was actually sent down a couple of days ago when Geek-Boy went to Cambridge for his interview for Wintering Communications Manager. He was successful, and I had to wait to find out whether I had an interview or not.

This all started a couple of months ago when I received a text message from Geek-Boy saying "BAS are advertising my job again, and this time they've got one for you too!". I checked their website later and they did indeed have a job that was perfect for me too. The only thing I had to do was to make sure they saw it that way too...

I spent the next couple of months trying to write the world's best application form, while also not falling behind with my Open University maths course and my RSGB foundation radio licence. Oh, and going to work too. It was a busy time.

This was Geek-Boy's third time of applying, and second interview, so we had a reasonable idea of what to expect, but nevertheless we spent several weekends driving back and forth between Lancashire and Warwickshire to see each other for practice interviews and to discuss every aspect of working in Antarctica we could think of in order to be well prepared for writing application forms and attending any interviews.

The hard work paid off because a week or so later I came home from work to find a large thick BAS-stamped envelope on the doormat. It looked too big to be a rejection letter but my heart was still in my mouth as I opened it up. The hard work wasn't over yet - I had another 8 days to cram for the interview!