Within the last couple weeks of my job-hunting, I’ve found myself increasingly irritated by five things. Shall we say I’m glad I’ve found a full-time job and hopefully will not have to deal with these for a while?
1) Job postings that do not identify what business or company they originate from. Look, I’m used to anonymity on the internet. I’ve got usernames on different websites. I interact with people – some of whom I’ve come to be friends with – who never reveal their actual names. But, come on, if you’re going to post a job advertisement on the internet, at least do us the common courtesy of telling us who you are. Applicants would like to know to whom they are applying. Not to mention that identifying yourself makes you look that much less sketchy.
2) Job postings with inadequate or almost no job description. Again, applicants like to know what they’re getting themselves into. If you’re going to advertise for an “assistant”, for example, tell us what sort of assistant you’re looking for and what we’d be doing.
3) Job postings with bad spelling, grammar, and/or formatting. It looks bad when you’re advertising for a “supervisot”, not even trying with your grammar, OR WHEN THE ENTIRE JOB DESCRIPTION IS IN CAPS or all bold. Especially if you’re a larger company who really should know better. I MEAN, REALLY, DO YOU WANT TO LOOK LIKE YOU’RE SHOUTING AT YOUR POTENTIAL APPLICANTS? (Okay, so I feel like yelling a bit at the people who posted an ad in all caps….) Or look like every word in the description is incredibly important… like, so important that every boring part of the description has the same weight as “must have five years of experience!!!!”? Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. Not only does it show a lack of design, but it’s really hard on the eyes. Especially when there are thick paragraphs of the stuff.
4) People who can’t keep track of how many times they’ve called me… regarding one, single application. Yes, I had one company call me no less than four times.
5) Now, this one isn’t exactly universal. This only applies to one thing that I got into, but it riled me all the same. My contact would e-mail me at, say, 8:30 am. Then I’d get a phone call five minutes later from one of his underlings to the effect of “hurry up and answer his e-mail, would you?”. As if the rest of their communication wasn’t horrific already, they piled that on. At one point, my contact said he’d e-mail me in two hours. I was really, really tempted to e-mail him fifteen minutes after I was supposed to have heard from him and basically say, “So… you’re late.” Just so he’d know what it felt like. I didn’t, of course, but that’s how much that grated against me.