The Interview

I turned up clutching my ancient school certificates, no doubt written in quill pen, to confirm that once upon a time I did indeed go to school. I was more nervous than I'd expected to be, and the sight of the other candidates who were all fresh faced and innocent, and looked as if the ink wasn't yet dry on their certificates, didn't help.

We started off with a written technical test, which was the bit I'd been most dreading. The questions varied in difficulty, and I was relieved when I could answer some of them with a degree of confidence. 'Using a hand held camera with a shutter speed of 1/15" will result in blur - True or False?' True, though I felt compelled to add 'unless you have exceedingly steady hands'. Other questions I hadn't a scooby about, but made best guesses.

Later, the interview panel said my test results 'weren't the worst they had seen'. Apparently I'd scored eleven and a half. Out of twenty? No, out of fifteen. That had to be a bit better than not the worst, surely. They clearly need to do a course in accounting.

Then I was asked to talk through the photos I'd brought, which wasn't hard. Getting me to stop talking was the hard bit. And I had to explain why I want to go back to college when I was clearly carrying the concept of a mature student to extremes. 

They must have needed to fill their quota of wrinklies, because they've offered me a place. A two year, full time HND in Photography, starting at the end of the summer. I'm very delighted.