Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Today I went for my job assessment test at the Workforce Commission. I got there a half hour early because I left home with plenty of time to allow for morning traffic, wrecks, or the very real possibility of having to tailgate a tractor for ten agonizing miles, and encountered none of these instances. I signed in and the receptionist went to get my person.
Susan (name changed to protect the innocent) came to the front and introduced herself. She shook my sweaty paw as I hopped from foot to foot.
“Could I use the restroom before we get started?” I asked.
“Of course!” She said, ever so friendly. She handed me a key and pointed to the door I had already tried. Why does anyone have to lock a restroom? Do people steal toilets? Is there a run on hand soap?
“Thanks so much,” I said. If only I’d stopped there, but no… “I always have to go when I’m nervous.” Shut up, Kerri! Shut UP!
“And you had a long drive, didn’t you?” Bless her heart, trying to make me feel comfortable.
“I did, and I was drinking the whole way here.” Susan’s eyes widened. “Dr. Pepper! I was drinking Dr. Pepper! Not drinking drinking, because I never do that. I mean, when I was younger, I used to….” I was finally able to control my runaway mouth and nodded toward the restroom. “I’ll be right out.”
She nodded, looking a little shell-shocked.
The interview progressed from there fairly well, I think. She asked lots of questions about homeschooling, and I do mean lots of questions. Looking back, I’m thinking maybe she was wondering if I was/am qualified to bear children, much less educate them. I was finally allowed to sit at the computer and take the test. I’m proud to say I passed it. Granted, it’s not a pass or fail test, but I’m going with ‘I passed it’ because it makes me feel good.
I must say, Susan did seem shocked to note my scores, bless her heart. I’m pretty sure she didn’t believe I had a brain, and I actually scored rather high in certain areas. If you’ll notice my snooty tone of voice, I’d appreciate it. She pointed out some of my possible careers, specifically noting that physician was listed. Whooo, doggy, I is SMART, girl! My head got so big I nearly floated out of there. I don’t plan on going to school for 14 years, but shyute, as smart as I am, who needs med school? I already know it all, like my teenagers.
Then again, when I got home I read over all my other possible career choices, and listed below physician was race car driver and ditch digger, so maybe I shouldn’t put too much stock into this assessment business. A whole day spent, and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. I’m not sure I even want to grow up.