maintain your weight. amputate.
Apr. 22nd, 2018 12:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
todayiamadaisyThat seems a bit drastic, spammer.
This week: I turned down two jobs in two days. What a fussy little flower I am. But was I wrong?
Job 1
On Tuesday, I had an interview to be the internal accountant at a specialist medical clinic. I had my doubts about it going in, for a number of reasons. Nothing that I could put my finger on. Just, you know, the vibes. So I went in thinking this probably might not be for me, but then, no harm in looking, is there?
Well. The interview was with the clinic's practice manager, a former accountant, who reminded me an awful lot of the accountants I used to work for. Wilfully oblivious to how terrible his attitude is. He started by boasting about how he works a sixty hour week because he loves the job so much. Then he complained about how all the women on staff (all the nurses, therapists and admins) worked part-time around school hours. He asked me if I had a problem with working with a lot of other women because "we have to manage that culture very carefully." Then he said: "And you're not planning to leave me to get married and have kids, are you?" I said, "I think you know you're not allowed to ask that," and he sort of laughed and said yes, he did know, but he really liked my answer. He didn't actually say the word feisty, but it was implied.
He also gushed about the greatness of all the specialists (all men, except one), particularly the owner, who is apparently A Great Man From Whom All Good Things Flow. (At the end of the interview I got to meet the Great Man himself, who also clearly thought of himself like that.) So I left the interview thinking I wouldn't accept the job even if he offered it to me (which was likely, because he clearly liked me, what with me being so feisty, and also because he had complained to me about the quality of the other two applicants). After brooding on it all night, I decided that I shouldn't waste his time letting him get that far, so I called him on Wednesday morning and said I didn't think I was the right fit for the job, so please withdraw my application. And that was the end of that. (The job has since been re-advertised.)
I did get a tour of the clinic out of it, though, so that was interesting.
Job 2
On Thursday, my old boss emailed me. Would I like a job at Old Work? A special job, working for him and Jenny/NA? Not finance work. Document management. You will be proud of me, f-list: I emailed back and said thanks for thinking of me, but I thought (a) I would find it difficult to be unable to influence things when I used to be part of the executive (and I had had to bite my tongue about a few decisions when I was there last month filling in for accounts payable), and (b) I think I've been out of organisation for long enough that I'm not really up-to-date anyway.
I did wobble a little bit before sending it, though. It was hard to say no. I think we're a bit co-dependent, but eighteen months after finishing (twenty-one after actually resigning) is probably time for us all to move on. I do worry I've been so used to working there I might be unemployable by anyone else, though. But that's next week's worry.
And now, I've got to go and get some bread out of the oven to have for Sunday lunch.
This week: I turned down two jobs in two days. What a fussy little flower I am. But was I wrong?
Job 1
On Tuesday, I had an interview to be the internal accountant at a specialist medical clinic. I had my doubts about it going in, for a number of reasons. Nothing that I could put my finger on. Just, you know, the vibes. So I went in thinking this probably might not be for me, but then, no harm in looking, is there?
Well. The interview was with the clinic's practice manager, a former accountant, who reminded me an awful lot of the accountants I used to work for. Wilfully oblivious to how terrible his attitude is. He started by boasting about how he works a sixty hour week because he loves the job so much. Then he complained about how all the women on staff (all the nurses, therapists and admins) worked part-time around school hours. He asked me if I had a problem with working with a lot of other women because "we have to manage that culture very carefully." Then he said: "And you're not planning to leave me to get married and have kids, are you?" I said, "I think you know you're not allowed to ask that," and he sort of laughed and said yes, he did know, but he really liked my answer. He didn't actually say the word feisty, but it was implied.
He also gushed about the greatness of all the specialists (all men, except one), particularly the owner, who is apparently A Great Man From Whom All Good Things Flow. (At the end of the interview I got to meet the Great Man himself, who also clearly thought of himself like that.) So I left the interview thinking I wouldn't accept the job even if he offered it to me (which was likely, because he clearly liked me, what with me being so feisty, and also because he had complained to me about the quality of the other two applicants). After brooding on it all night, I decided that I shouldn't waste his time letting him get that far, so I called him on Wednesday morning and said I didn't think I was the right fit for the job, so please withdraw my application. And that was the end of that. (The job has since been re-advertised.)
I did get a tour of the clinic out of it, though, so that was interesting.
Job 2
On Thursday, my old boss emailed me. Would I like a job at Old Work? A special job, working for him and Jenny/NA? Not finance work. Document management. You will be proud of me, f-list: I emailed back and said thanks for thinking of me, but I thought (a) I would find it difficult to be unable to influence things when I used to be part of the executive (and I had had to bite my tongue about a few decisions when I was there last month filling in for accounts payable), and (b) I think I've been out of organisation for long enough that I'm not really up-to-date anyway.
I did wobble a little bit before sending it, though. It was hard to say no. I think we're a bit co-dependent, but eighteen months after finishing (twenty-one after actually resigning) is probably time for us all to move on. I do worry I've been so used to working there I might be unemployable by anyone else, though. But that's next week's worry.
And now, I've got to go and get some bread out of the oven to have for Sunday lunch.