Instant Grati-failure
I applied for a job today online. After the part of the application that asks for your personal information such as your address and work history, there came the part of the application that asks for your very personal information. I like to call it the psychological evaluation portion of the application process. This is the part where they give you a series of logic problems to make sure that you're not a dummy, and then the interrogation follows. "How do you feel about things you've done in the past?" "choose which word of the group best describes you." "Which statement best suits your personality?" That's the basic sense of what they ask, except it takes about 20 minutes to get through the whole thing.
In the end, I wiped the tears from my cheeks and cleared my sinuses. The little internet application therapy session had ended. It's completion heralded a plastic change in the physical makeup of my brain, a revolution within. The world seemed new, but at the same time sad. Well, maybe it was more of a feeling of melancholy, or a sober thoughtfulness. I had come to the point at which the "submit" button hovered there on the screen.
I clicked "submit" and a new screen immediately replaced the previous one. This new one said something to the effect of, "you don't meet the qualifications for this position." It had something to do with the answers I gave on the "psychological evaluation". I always try to be honest on those type of things, but sometimes I wonder if it might better to just lie about my underlying emotional issues. I should just tell them that I love impossible challenges, long hours at work, multitasking, flaky customers, crappy coworkers, listening to stupid ideas, and... sales.
Oh well. The only thing to do is to get over it. Though it is a little disheartening to be instantly rejected, it is somehow more humane than hanging the carrot of possibility in front of the rabbit only to chuck the carrot over the edge of a cliff. Just never show the rabbit a carrot; that way, the rabbit won't waste its time with a fruitless (or vegetable-less) chase.
In the end, I wiped the tears from my cheeks and cleared my sinuses. The little internet application therapy session had ended. It's completion heralded a plastic change in the physical makeup of my brain, a revolution within. The world seemed new, but at the same time sad. Well, maybe it was more of a feeling of melancholy, or a sober thoughtfulness. I had come to the point at which the "submit" button hovered there on the screen.
I clicked "submit" and a new screen immediately replaced the previous one. This new one said something to the effect of, "you don't meet the qualifications for this position." It had something to do with the answers I gave on the "psychological evaluation". I always try to be honest on those type of things, but sometimes I wonder if it might better to just lie about my underlying emotional issues. I should just tell them that I love impossible challenges, long hours at work, multitasking, flaky customers, crappy coworkers, listening to stupid ideas, and... sales.
Oh well. The only thing to do is to get over it. Though it is a little disheartening to be instantly rejected, it is somehow more humane than hanging the carrot of possibility in front of the rabbit only to chuck the carrot over the edge of a cliff. Just never show the rabbit a carrot; that way, the rabbit won't waste its time with a fruitless (or vegetable-less) chase.
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