Tag Archives: rejection

Another notch on the post

28 Oct

 No, not that  kind of post. Honestly your minds are in the sewers… I mean the rejection post.

 I’m the not-so-proud owner of yet another rejection email for a job that, although I didn’t particularly want, I would have accepted if they’d offered. You with me?

Not only was I told ‘no’ in a Family Fortunes-esque eh-uh kind of way, the one shred of hope I had that they’d got it wrong and wanted to try me out, was cruelly snatched away.

The first email entitled Application Update  read: “Thank you for your application for a role with _______.

I’m sorry to advise that unfortunately, on this occasion, you have been unsuccessful following the shortlisting process.”

So far, so familiar. Though I don’t like the use of the word advise, I prefer inform, but perhaps I’m being a tad fussy. And shouldn’t ‘shortlisting’ be two separate words, or hyphenated?

It continues: “We received a high volume of applications for this particular role, therefore, feedback will be available on this occasion.”

I’d use the word ‘number’ instead of ‘volume’ – it is referring to applications after all. I don’t like the overuse of the comma. It’s not a sub-clause so I wouldn’t bother with the second one.

And I’m fed-up of hearing about my failure ‘on this occasion’. Which other occasion could they possibly know about? Do they read this blog? Perhaps.

I’m delighted that given the high number of applicants they will work hard to give me feedback.

Then an hour later my email inbox pinged. It read: “Please ignore the previous email sent.”

Huzzah! Interview potential? The dawn of a new employment era? Erm no.

I scanned down the rest of the email which was a copy and paste job from the previous one, apart from a useful addition which read:

“We received a high volume of applications for this particular role, therefore, feedback will NOT be available on this occasion.”

Hopes dashed, big fat rain cloud over my new era, back to square one.

It concluded with a wishy-washy, generic, thanks-but-no-thanks and good luck with the future statement.

I don’t want your best wishes. I want job stability, a monthly wage and your pension scheme.

Perhaps I should have a new approach and instead of getting upset and annoyed I should use the rejection for the greater good like this chap:






Job application #3874

6 Oct

….or so it feels.

It seems that filling in application forms has become something of a full-time, albeit unpaid, job for me.

The most excessive one was a staggering 17 pages long (they were pretty specific) and took me the best part of six hours to complete. Six hours! Many cups of tea (and innumerous toilet trips) later I was the proud owner of a tome about my various work experience placements and qualifications.

That was completed four weeks ago and I hadn’t heard so much as a peep from the recruitment bods. No surprise there. However I woke up this morning with a niggling thought that the interview date was fast-approaching and, you know, my phone has been on the blink so I might have missed their impassioned pleas for me to grace them with my presence and be interviewed. So I decided to give them a call.

I rang up the HR department and babbled about the job application to an unimpressed sounding woman who merely asked: “Name?” And after some exaggerated paper shuffling said: “I’m sorry you haven’t made the shortlist.” I thanked her for her time and hung up.

Now although this shouldn’t have been a big surprise I was genuinely saddened by the news and did what every mature wannabe would do in my position. Got mad.

Rejection rage: it affects all ages

“WHAT MORE DO THEY WANT?!” I shouted to my nervous-looking boyfriend, “I. DON’T. KNOW. WHAT. ELSE. I.CAN.DO!”

After a lot of sulking and pouting I decided to use my bad mood in a positive way and get another couple of job applications under my belt. It was as I was scanning the online vacancy listings that I noticed that most adverts ended with: “Due to the large number of applications we will receive, if your application is unsuccessful we will not contact you.”

I felt the anger rise again. And 12 hours on I’m still fuming. I don’t understand how difficult it could be for a recruiter to send an en-masse email to say “Sorry, better luck next time.” Or simply “No.”

Do they not realise how demoralising it is for applicants? I only hope that this generation of unemployed people will eventually strike lucky and be a more compassionate bunch in the future when they’re recruiting.

I’ll make damn sure I am.