05 November 2007

Whew! *That* was close!

Well, I'd like to say it was "nothing", but really, I was sweating bullets!

Since I consider readers of this blog to be among my more friendly professional acquaintances, I thought I'd let you in on something that has not yet been released to the general public.

See here for an as-yet to be released announcement article/press-release-style about my becoming an SEI-Certified High Maturity Lead Appraiser.

The actual release might change slightly as the PR folks work on it, but you'll get the gist.

One fun thing that had to be left on the editing floor was a quote from a technical member of one of my client's staff when he asked, "... how did you get into this field?  I mean, you actually have a personality!"

The techie was worried I might be offended, but I thought it was pretty funny, and so did PR... but it didn't make the cut for the article.

Here's some insight into what it was like:

The oral exam gives high marks for noting very specific terms, and is structured in some way (like the CMMI model itself) that lends itself to recursiveness (not exactly redundancy).  Towards the last half hour, my seasonal cold, my lack of sleep, and my indigestion had all caught-up with me.  My brain was empty, I couldn't tell what I'd said previously and what I still didn't say and I couldn't pull certain ideas from my brain to save my life.

Last impressions are often just as memorable as first impressions.  In my case, I recall that I nailed the earlier parts of the exam to the wall.  Not just hitting the target but obliterating it.  But when the end drew near, I felt like I'd lost that clarity of thought, that I was going in circles.  Not knowing when I'd said enough or when I was digging my own grave, I started searching for ideas on the blank neutral hotel walls hoping my eye-movement would stimulate new recollections to re-open my log-jammed head to what I knew I knew.

At best, I felt I was squarely on the fence.  I'm grateful to the guys who administered the exam for translating my verbal spaghetti into thoughts that must've communicated my intentions even though at the time I felt my 22-month old had more effective speech patterns.

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