Trust Your Nose
I’ve developed a pretty keen sense of smell in my old age, and it’s nearly always “right on the nose.” Last year I turned down a management job at one company just months before the entire company went under; seven months ago I resigned my directorship of another and have watched them lose acres of ground since — as I’d warned them they would. Nor have the latter found anyone willing to be my replacement.
Many years ago, I ignored an “icky” smell at another job, until I had to leave that position when we moved to Canada. I later found out that my boss had sexually assaulted my predecessor.
My nose knows.
I don’t really want the news my nose is bringing me now, because it’s making me too picky. I need a job. I could persevere and take one of these stinky jobs anyway, but I already know the likely outcome: been there, done that. So for now, I’m sticking with the schnozz.
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