Day two blooms with promise. I’d received a mini psychological test on Friday evening from a potential employer. Apparently now it isn’t enough that you have an impressively structured resume and cover letter, there are now batteries of tests that you are asked to complete before you are hustled along the employment chain to the goal of the face-to-face interview.
Well I have to pay my therapist more money because I passed the psychological test. One never knows where the pitfall may be lurking. I was asked to identify character traits that I feel others want me to possess and then identify the traits that I feel that I do, indeed, have. I didn’t ponder hidden meanings or assumptions. I quickly and easily identified the two sets of questions with honesty. That’s all I have and this is who I am. The gurus who assembled the test apparently deemed me worthy of further examination. I congratulate myself and all therapeutic aids, books, affirmations, meditations, that have contributed to the successful completion of this challenge. I am hustled along the cyber assembly line to a mini-GMAT. I have twelve minutes to complete 50 questions.
I am a multi-tasker by nature or environment, I can’t quite decipher the genesis of this propensity, so I set some onions to brown, feed the cats, and sit at my desk to apply myself. The strategic thinking presented as word puzzles are a breeze. The relationships of drawn figures and sequences give me pause. I have no sense of direction, may I say that now? This means that I am spatially challenged and couldn’t find Queens on a map of New York. Of course, who would want to? So I apply myself with diligence and confidence. I am asked not to use a calculator for the math puzzles so I comply with reticence wondering if self-sabotage has long been a part of my DNA. And then, have the other applicants assiduously complied, or have I placed myself at a disadvantage?
I click send, hoping that this simple action will reassemble my life and usher in a new phase with a stimulating new job. I need to be active, seriously. I need the stimulation of an interesting career challenge or an extended trip to Europe. Hmm, since I am also completing my 2011 taxes late, I know, I realize that the extended European tour a la Eva Peron, is not in my immediate future.
Satisfied with having accomplished the most recent phase in this job search, I go to media bistro to mine new job opportunities. I research the hiring manager on LinkedIn, hoping for an insight, an edge. I research the company’s website if the name is given. I align my experience with their job search. I refine my cover letter and have whizzed through three applications when I smell burning onions. My economical dinner has singed and I now have crispy onions to tempt my flagging appetite.
I take Advil to ease the pain at the site of a root-canal earlier this afternoon. I’m looking forward to the conclusion of Bachelor Pad. It’s unapologetic mindless fare that makes me laugh. Tonight former contestants will air their grievances. Well pick a number and join the line. I wish that I had such an outlet.
My root-canal pre-empted the gym, but I will be taking my boxing gloves and gear to Asphalt Green on the Upper East Side tomorrow.
For today, I’ve done what I can and will reward myself accordingly – with a burnt dinner and Reality TV. Is it just me? I was hoping for something more.