I’m not going to be the next assistant manager at my store. Because I failed the assessment.
I scored a 6; the previous AM who said that I stink scored an 85. The one who was fired after three weeks on the job for being disruptive.
I was honest; it’s against my principles to lie on a pre-employment assessment, no matter how bullshit it is. But I’ve changed so much since I’ve last had to take one of those things.
And I don’t think they design them for writers, anyway. Word choice is everything. Rephrasing a statement can easily change the whole meaning.
It’s for the best, though. I didn’t really want the job, and it would have come with all sorts of complications, like insurance and time management issues and scheduling conflicts.
Now there won’t be much conflict when I start working for the Census Bureau again. One day. I got a call this morning that my training will be in Atlanta in three weeks. I think I have to drive there, although they’d save around $500 just on me if they just bought me a plane ticket instead of reimbursing me mileage.
But it’s the government.
The new assistant manager put in her notice yesterday.
She tried to claim that it’s everyone else who’s unprofessional.
The acronym smh comes to mind.