Like all other conversations at The Gabriel Institute, the topic of my impending departure for life on the high seas came full circle back to RBA.  While the average person might have thought of Blackbeard or that episode of Family Guy in which Stewie imagines his musical life on deck, Dr. J’s mind went straight to 15th century Italy.  Leave it to a Founder to take things in a different direction.

According to the good doctor, Renaissance Italy offered few vocational choices.  You either went to work on a ship, raised livestock, or spent your days stomping grapes.  So if you’re Christopher Columbus, and you aren’t feeling the sheep or the stained socks, you hop on board the first ship that’s hiring.  The sailors who were actually good would likely have been Explorers, had they taken RBA.  Considering the 7,790 miles (thanks Google) that separate America and India, it seems likely that Chris’ Role wasn’t such a good fit for his occupation.  Then again, with only three career options and ten Roles, there were bound to be a few people who weren’t exactly at home in their jobs.

Taking our imaginary DeLorean back to the year 2009, we find that there are millions of careers to choose from.  This difficult decision can be made easier by determining your Role, and thereby ensuring that you don’t end up in America, when you should’ve been in Italy all along making wine with your feet (figuratively speaking, of course).

Ahoy, and goodbye.  This will most assuredly be my last blog (well, not really, but go with me here), as I’ve just discovered that marketing is not my destiny.  No, my fate lies beyond the world of cubicles, beyond suits and briefcases, beyond land even.  You see my friends, the stars have aligned and shown me my true path: shipmate.

By now you’re probably wondering two things; “what is he talking about” and “why doesn’t The Gabriel Institute randomly drug test interns?”  Sadly, this is not the work of LSD or any other illegal substance, but rather a career test (which shall remain nameless).  Earlier today I was researching some of the options people can employ when attempting to choose a career path.  I was led almost immediately to the site-that-shall-not-be-named, asked three questions, and voila, sailor.  Now I have nothing against sailors or the occupation itself, but the idea of me as a sailor is beyond ridiculous.  But alas, it is my fate, so sail I shall (again, not really).

[If you did not read the post loudly with the swashbuckling accent of the Spongebob opening narrator, I ask that you kindly reread it in such a manner.]

In the spirit of public service to those who are applying for jobs they never thought they would apply for – much less be thrilled to be hired for – and are confronted with some sort of ‘personality test,’ here’s some advice:

  • Choose the first answer that comes in your head. It’s probably the one that’s most correct.
  • Try to avoid committing to strong words or absolutes, like ‘never’ and ‘always.’ For instance: I have never taken anything from an employer. True or false? If you choose ‘true,’ the odds are you’re lying.
  • Consider the position you’re applying for. What are the three most important success factors?  If you say you aren’t good at them – or interested in them – you won’t score points.

Rightly or wrongly, companies that give these ‘personality tests’ to prospective employees are looking for a certain type of candidate. If you try to slant your answers, you may end up in a job that you’re not right for.  More important, if you can’t be yourself and get hired, maybe they’re not right for you.