Advice and lip-service — I’m already sweet enough

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.

  1. Don’t give up, you’re born to be an assessor.
  2. Go for social care assessor roles, your skillset suits it well.
  3. 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.

Tomos James