The Self-Check
Twenty-five practices. Answer honestly — Yes, Partly, or Not yet. Answer fifteen and you'll get a read on where you're strong, where the gaps are, and your first three moves. Your answers stay in this browser.
The core framework. It hasn't changed in twenty years because it hasn't needed to. If there are gaps here, nothing in Parts Two and Three will make up for them.
I can say in one sentence what I'm moving toward — and it has a date on it.
You don't pick your number. Your situation sets it: 0 is ecstatically happy, 5 is "I need to change" with no date, 10 is out of work. Whatever your number, the rule is the same — you can't advance it until you have the 6, a high-level statement about your plan with a date on it. Even a 10 starts here.
I have written down my dream date, my standard-of-living date, and my "oh no" date, and shared them with my partner.
You can't get past 5 on your own without a date. No date means no plan, no plan means no weekly activity, and then your timeline gets set by someone else — a boss, a market, a layoff.
I write down and count meaningful conversations with people who could actually decide to hire me.
People track seven things in a search. Six of them are inputs. Meaningful conversations with someone who can hire you is the only output. In your head the number is always "a few," and "a few" is never six.
I'm hitting the conversation pace my motivation level calls for.
Motivation 0–6: one a month. 6–9: two a month. Out of work: two a week. Six conversations over six months tends to produce three real opportunities and two offers. Skipping the tracker produces 0, 0, 0, 2, 2, 2 — a scramble right when you have the least leverage.
I have a written TO list, and I judge opportunities against it rather than against what I dislike now.
Most people design their next job as the opposite of their current one and end up somewhere different instead of better. Put the leadership trio at the top: they have a plan, you trust them to execute it, and they have compassion for stakeholders. If one of the three is missing, nothing else makes up for it.
I've gone through my contacts and graded each one A, B, or C.
A: complete trust — they always call back. B: trusted, but you need to be on. C: job boards, recruiters, badge scans. Most people start with the C's when motivation spikes and quit six weeks later. You have about three times more A's than you think.
I've had real conversations with at least three A contacts in the last thirty days.
An A will tell you you're great, tell you to stop whining, and then introduce you to a good B. That's the highest-return hour in the whole process, and it's the one people put off because it feels too easy.
I end conversations by asking what I can do for them, and I listen for opportunities that have nothing to do with my agenda.
You almost never recognize the important conversation while you're in it. Treat every one as if it might be. The question isn't a courtesy. It's how the next door opens.
Every entry on my resumé and LinkedIn shows revenue increased, cost reduced, performance improved, or workflow improved.
"Responsible for" describes an assignment, and nobody hires for assignments. Every bullet needs to point at one of the four, preferably with a number and some recognition.
I publish or share something at least twice a week, and my profile says why someone should hire me.
LinkedIn is the new resumé, running 24/7. It's the accepted way to tell your network, modestly, what you're good at. Mornings or evenings around 7 tend to work best.
I belong to two professional groups and one personal group, and I have a responsibility in each.
Just attending doesn't produce much. "Active" means taking on a job, even if the job is taking out the trash after each meeting. Responsibility is what gets you remembered.
After interviews I send a researched solution, a handwritten note to the hiring manager, and a personal LinkedIn connection to everyone I met.
Over eighty percent of candidates never ask a single question about the company. Doing the research puts you in the top twenty percent.
The things that get taught one-on-one in every coaching session. Each one is small and specific, and each one works.
My side work, favors, and unpaid projects show up on my resumé as professional experience.
Get someone to pay you a dollar and you're a professional. Multiple income streams now signal range, not a lack of focus, whether you're 25 or 60.
I have a one-sentence answer to "why hire you," and I've tested it on someone who'd honestly say "next."
"I'm just a project manager" loses. "I make everybody around me ten percent better" wins. They say "hire you" or "next," and you don't get to argue.
If I'm employed and looking, I have a forty-second positioning statement.
Five beats: I'm in a good situation. Here's what I've built. Here are the three things missing. Here's my date. I'm flexible either way. Plan six months, say three out loud.
The work I'm slightly embarrassed to list is described in a way I'm proud of.
"I helped my cousin" becomes "I needed cold-calling experience, so I found a commission role." The work was always professional. The description wasn't.
When I get a "no," I send a rejection recovery email within seventy-two hours.
Thank them for the specific feedback, describe something concrete you've already done about it, restate your interest once, and stop. It often turns into the next opening on that team.
I assume there's a room where people argue over the finalists, and my follow-up is written for that room.
Fifteen apply, five make it, and then people argue over the five in a room you're not in. Your follow-up is the only thing of yours in that room.
I've recorded myself answering an interview question and watched it with the sound off.
The camera flattens warmth and exaggerates fidgeting. Look at the lens. Sit forward. Light from the front. Say their name twice.
I can describe the thing I used to apologize for as a qualification.
Reading a room, hearing what wasn't said — most people who have it were told it was a flaw. It's the most valuable skill you have, and no one can automate it.
AI now sits on both sides of the hiring table. It raises the floor and lowers the ceiling on everything in the search except the conversation.
For every hour I spend using AI on applications, I spend an hour talking with someone who could hire me.
AI makes low-value work feel productive. Forty tailored applications in one evening is still zero for the one KPI. If it isn't 1:1, you're hiding.
I've fed a transcript of myself talking about my work into a model to find accomplishments missing from my resumé.
People describe their own value badly when they try and beautifully by accident. Its questions are worth more than its writing.
Every number, title, and claim in my materials is true and defensible, and I never use a copilot during a live interview.
AI drafts, you decide. No invented numbers, titles, or credentials. And AI never touches a conversation with an A contact.
My resumé is single-column, uses the posting's vocabulary for skills I actually have, and has no keyword I can't defend.
A parser reads it first, then a person gives it about seven seconds. Formatting gets you through the screen. Outcomes get you through the seven seconds.
My answers follow situation, action, number, result, and I've done a full AI mock interview.
Structured answers score well with machines and land well with people. Say the number out loud. Slow down about fifteen percent.
I have one true sentence about how I use AI, one thing I've built with it, and one opinion on where it fails.
The bar is fluency, not expertise — about two hours of work. For anyone over fifty, this is the biggest advantage available right now.
If an AI agent is applying for me, it drafts but never sends, and my tracker has a "Who I know there" column.
Automate the C list and spend the time it saves on your A list. Every posting an agent finds is really a question: who do I know there?
Your read
Answer at least fifteen of the twenty-five and your read appears here.
A checklist can show you which boxes are empty. It can't tell you which one to fill first.
That depends on your date, who's actually on your A list, and the thing you've been avoiding that showed up as "Partly" three times above. If I can help, I'll raise my hand. If I can't, I won't be your last phone call.