In the Wrong Job
Friday 6th September, 2013
When you come up against the “I’m in the wrong job” thought twice in the same hour, you have to suspect the universe is trying to tell you something.
Stupidly, I’ve been reading my semi-junk mail, you know the stuff you get sent from job boards, alerting you to jobs you might be interested in. Thankfully the masseuse placement ads have abated, but I still get occasional ones for CICs which is almost as dodgy. Very, very occasionally, up pops one for FileMaker work.
Hey-ho, then, I’d submitted an enquiry about a 3-month contract, which would involve a weekly commute. I submitted it at 8:00. I had a human generated email at 8:02, asking me to call ASAP. In CAPS. I like to start the morning with a little light comedy, so I think what the hell. I click the number.
The recruiter couldn’t give me very much in the way of job details or position, other than the location, and that it was for an insurance company. His clear intention was to get a day-rate out of me, whilst giving as little info to me as possible. I found this frustrating, as I don’t do end-runs around middlemen - it does your reputation no good, always ends in tears, and to be honest it’s impolite. I’m pretty sure he won’t be putting my name forward, because I’m over their budget. That’s fine. I’m also fairly sure he won’t be getting back in touch, despite saying he would: that’s been my experience of recruiters; perhaps I’m getting old, or perhaps I’ve been talking to the wrong agencies.
I then received an email from an associated CV Review company, offering a free review of my CV. How very kind. Given that this isn’t something I do very often, and in fact the CV I’d submitted was a straight download of the LinkedIn auto-generated PDF, I think what the hell. I click the link. Another 1 minute later (no, wait, literally six zero seconds later) I receive a phone call from the Review company. The woman on the phone claimed to have read my CV and wanted to go through it with me.
Now, salient fact; I read roughly 600 words a minute (or half that when reading upside-down). Useful in this game, and yes, a trick that’s got me out of scrapes many times. It could be argued that a recruitment consultant would be able to bin a CV after a quick glance (20 seconds) in terms of layout, spelling, etc, but in order to comment on the content of the CV, well, one would have thought you’d have spent 2 minutes reading it. It became clear that this wasn’t a review, but a sales pitch, but hey, fair enough it was free. No complaints. But the price of a review? £750 + VAT.
I’m in the wrong job.
At 9am I had a dentist appointment. Just as I’m leaving, my wife asks me how much the treatment is going to be. I have no idea, but promise I’ll check before sitting down in the chair. I don’t even get as far as the chair. The receptionist greets me with a waiver form to sign, and I point out that there’s no pound sign on it. How much is the treatment going to cost? She pulls up my record on the screen - nice, two clicks, 10 seconds - prints out the INVOICE. Not quote, INVOICE. Remember, I have not yet parked my backside, and I certainly haven’t been given a quotation or note outlining what the treatment will cost.
£570 for a mouth guard, un-needed X-Ray, two minor fillings, two trips to the dental hygienist, and 1 hour actually spent in the dentist’s chair.
I’m in the wrong job.
In Other News
I’ve bought a sports mouthguard for £20. And added ‘Dentistry’ to my job search terms.
I was wrong! The recruiter did get back to me, and politely too. Yep, I’m too pricey. Trouble is, I’m left wondering where he gets his teeth looked at?