Last week, a representative of Investors in People came to judge whether we had maintained the standards over the past three or four years. Somehow I had managed to get myself involved in this and was one of three governors to meet with the representative. Not sure why I was asked, considering the fact that I suffer from Foot in Mouth Syndrome – it was a high risk strategy on behalf of the Head if you ask me.

I did my homework and read through the SDP one more time the night before the interview. I also had a think about training opportunities I know have been given to all staff and to governors. I then made a pact to myself that I would let our Vice Chair handle the difficult questions and that I would speak only if directly spoken to.

I suffered my first panic attack when I arrived at the front desk shortly before 9am and there was no sign of the other two governors. The reception staff were both busy with umpteen parents handing in school uniform requests/holiday forms/forgotten lunch boxes etc, so I couldn’t ask if I had got the wrong time/place, so I sat and sweated quietly for a bit. I needn’t have worried – everyone but me was running a bit late – my life had turned itself on its head for a wee while.

When the interview did start, my heart started racing again when my baby (don’t ask!) reached down from my lap and tried to pick up the vice chair’s keys. At this point I tried to surrepticiously check my pockets for my keys, found them missing and decided that I had left them in the front door.

Much of the interview passed me by as I sat imagining burglars emptying my house and driving off with my belongings in the back of my own car. The interviewer must have thought that I was either on speed or suffering from OCD as, red in the face with panic, I couldn’t sit still for checking my pockets again and again. However, apart from it being obvious that we hadn’t done anything in the way of succession planning, I don’t believe I said anything too blonde.

At least, nothing I said completely blew things, as I heard the next day that we had been re-awarded the IiP badge.

And my keys? Oh, they were in the baby’s buggy in reception.

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