Such a long time ago now, I had a meeting that was my first-ever annual review in a company. I’ve been freelance since the 1990s so, seriously, such a long time ago now. This one was the only annual review with at that firm — for reasons you’ll see — but it was followed by countless others and especially at the BBC where although I was usually freelance, things blurred a bit, and sometimes I’d be counted as staff.

Every single annual appraisal review I have ever had has been glowing, uplifting, just generally tremendous — except that very first one. And you know which one I remember.

More than remember it, it stuck with me. So much so that ahead of every one of those annual reviews afterwards and even now when anyone tells me they are about to have one, I get just a little sick with worry.

Because I strolled into that office all those years ago, sat down happily, knew I was doing well as a technical author writing computer manuals, knew I was really engaged and definitely on team, and even knew that I’d been entirely fair on the form I’d had to fill in about my abilities so far, what I wanted to next, all that stuff.

Unfortunately, my manager at the time had decided to grade people on a bell curve and had chosen me to be the worst-performing one. Hand on heart, I was and am convinced that he did this because I was so reasonable, I wasn’t going to complain. By God, I complained. A half-hour happy chat was instantaneously turned into an all-morning row where I fought over every single mark in every single category.

I’m trying to remember how many of us there were in this team, but I do recall one woman being unquestionably the best. And one man being unquestionably the worst. And there was another fella who I never quite got an impression of, at least not of his writing.

All three, and whoever else there was, got a promotion that day. I successfully argued up at least a lot of my grades on the form, but I knew even in the heat of the moment that the battle was over. I was just bloody-minded enough that I was going to make it a fight.

Of course, he was never going to do actual appraisals, he was always going to stick to this bell curve notion. So whatever I did, he won the war.

Except of course, he didn’t. Because from that instant, I was gone. I definitely began applying for other jobs, but even while I was still there, I was gone. All engagement cancelled. I nine-to-five’d it like I’d never done before and haven’t done since. I volunteered for nothing, suggested nothing, helped with nothing.

I can’t tell you why this is on my mind this week, I know I haven’t thought of it in a long time. But something triggered me and I had to tell you. Let me tell you something nicer though, something I’d actually forgotten until this all came tumbling out of me. At that firm, I was writing computer manuals and working with the developers. One group of developers made me man of the team one year — and I wasn’t even in their team.

If you possibly can, go work with people who appreciate you. Or at least don’t go work with people who won’t. Or go freelance and skip all of this stuff.

I wonder if I should give myself an annual appraisal now.