It is midnight and the man pushing the cart down the street stops to catch his breath. If it only were easier. A life of hardship has taught him to be strong, to be steadfast, but he has always wondered, and even now, looking up at some of the lighted housing in the arcology. He wonders how it would be if he had a life like that.
It is midnight and inside, another man stands up from his paper-covered desk and walks to the window. Oblivious to the man and his cart downstairs, he is too worried to notice. Expenses, mortgage, payments, ends having to meet; his climb up the corporate ladder slower than anticipated and now changes with the new CEO. There are needs that must be filled. If he only had a chance...
It is midnight and the new CEO looks down her domain from the top floor building. The pressure, the people, the petty strife amongst corporate divisions; public appearances and secret negotiations. Right now, she would rather be free amongst the stars, flying from planet to planet until she chose another star, any star in the sky and start over. If she only could fly like they do...
It was midnight and I put the finishing touches to a description of my entire life. It is grossly unfair to sum it up on just a handful of pages, but that is the way it must be. And if I spent any more time making it perfect, I would show up and next day's interview being sleepy, grumpy, stupid and with bags under my eyes. Not the best first impression, I am afraid.
I hate job hunting. Hate it, with passion.
Interviewer X> Can you tell me about your combat experience?
Quin> I have, ah, seen combat.
X> Do you have any killboard references?
Q> Not really. But here, see, I have two kills.
X raises an eyebrow> Two kills in four years?
I do not know which part I hate the most, whether it is the constant application/rejection cycle, or the part where I have to pretend to be someone I am not, just because everyone else pretends.
Okay, I get it. Really. Eggs must be broken to make an omelet. You have to apply a hundred times to get one acceptance. I do not have to like it, do I?
What I find disgusting out there is the sheer amount of people wanting to oversell themselves and embellish their life with fantastic details. Should I pretend as well, or is it better to be honest up front?
Interviewer Y> What are your best strengths as a pilot?
Q> I can go fast. I used to race in the pro circuit, you know.
Y> So you are a tackler...
Q> Yes, I could be.
Y> Could? You are either a tackler, or are not. What else do you consider a strength?
So I do not pretend and that usually lands me in trouble. Or, rather than trouble, -here is to positive thinking- saves me the time and effort of attending a second or third interview with the same people.
I have been saving a lot of time and effort lately.
Everyone else pretends. Then again everyone else is, well, not me. They have skills people want around here. Maybe I am looking in the wrong spot?
Interviewer Z> Your CV states you are committed pacifist; you also state you have trained Advanced Weapon Upgrades to level 5...
Q> I am an angry pacifist.
Z> What makes you think you are a good fit to our corporation?
Q> I think that people skills are a valuable contribution to any organisation. I mean, you can have all the technical stuff in place but your corp still needs the right approach to people to work and endure in time. The current skillpoint system does not really reflect that...
Z> Oh. Okay. Shall we... Is there anything you would like to know about us?
Or maybe I am the wrong candidate?
The worse that I have been called? I would say it was me being 'management material without management experience.' I think the proper answer to that one is feeling somewhere between flattered and insulted. Like I would be just right for the job if I did not know jack shit. Small detail.
I think I may be doing this the wrong way. I have been out of the picture for too long now, out of the loop. Maybe there is something I could do to make myself fit better, a skill or certification that looks good on my CV but is something real, substantive and useful. That way, I would not have to pretend being someone I am not. Rather, I would be interesting because of what I can actually do. Because of who I am. Which, incidentally, is the same woman I was before, only now with a nice certificate on the wall.
I think that's it: I am off to learn some skills.
I still hate job hunting, though.
What do people see when they look at capsuleers? Giants, gods, monsters, mythical creatures, insufferable snobs, unreachable heights?
Capsuleers are not gods, just people as well like everybody else. We bleed, we die, we look for acceptance, we look for a life to call our own. There are needs that must be filled, because we are human. And because we are human, it does not matter how many things one gets for granted.