“Not that smart. Not that hot. Not that nice. Not that funny. That’s me: I’m not that.”
― John Green
I often find myself scrambling.
Scrambling in my whirlpool of thoughts for … I don’t know what for, for clarity, I guess.
And then, I had to write the dreaded bi-annual self-review at my job. I detest these self-evaluations, they take me to a dark place which I am sure, or at least hope, is not the aim of the company.
Alas, I had to scramble once again to find the words that were the right amount of narcissist and humble to describe the wonders I have done in my role, and immediately follow with the plagues I have caused the job under discussion.
Assesseth mine own self. (Been reading a lot of Shakespeare lately)
Needless to say, there are very few instances I hate less than doing the above.
Yet, I wrote, boasted, feigned modesty, and dissected the past six months under the microscope of corporate scrutiny (or silly games of greed as I like to think).
The review arrived and departed, all was well, all were happy with my performance.
Shall I feel good about my self now?
Perhaps. But there are still whispers in my ear demanding the self to stop scrambling.
Do you like to do self-assessments?