On the day my funeral assessing role became surplus to requirements and I got the boot, I received advice that was echoed by two people in a position to know.
- Don’t give up, you’re born to be an assessor.
- Go for social care assessor roles, your skillset suits it well.
- Need anything, come to me.
Since that day, more so before covid-19, I’ve been doing just that: not giving up; going for social care assessor roles.
I lack the experience.
I won’t repeat the paradox, I cover it here.
A social care assessor job came up at the company I worked for and I e-mailed one of the advice-givers to see if I’d get a look-in.
They said no, I lack the experience.
They offered to speak with the recruiter, though, but never got back to me.
My application has been declined.
What grinds my gears is the advice I got and took was lip-service given to keep me sweet. I’m already sweet. I don’t need to be sweetened any more. I would’ve preferred, since I already didn’t know, had they said ‘I don’t know’ over giving bad advice I was likely to follow.
If people in a position to know don’t know then I can shrug, pick up the pieces, and skip off into the sunset.
If people in a position to know say that they do know then I’m inclined to listen.
It’s a simple case of ‘I don’t know, you do know — I want your knowledge’.
So I take onboard their advice when it was really said to make themselves feel better. I’d just been sacked because I was surplus to requirements, they hadn’t. They possibly felt a little insecure themselves. They needed to feel better. It’s perfectly reasonable. Personally, I would’ve been saying “I don’t know” over giving bad advice to feel better in myself, but that’s my own skill.