Urban Haiku

Sisyphus II

Yet another job interview today - the long crawl through my past accomplishments. This time, a tribunal of nine women sat in judgment of me. An entire department analyzed my ability to meet job requirements a trained chimp could fill.

I had to prove to a table full of professional strangers that my scattered work experience makes some kind of sense. Yesterday, I was chatting with the Seal about how little value is placed on people with general knowledge – on the ‘randomly intelligent’ (as I put it to her and am obviously still patting myself on the back for).

Am I nervous? Never. I have been through so many job interviews in my life that my confidence is completely unshakeable. This confidence is not the result of an over-inflated ego. In fact, over the years, my ego has been battered almost unrecognizably. No – I am confident because the interview process itself holds no terror.

Don’t I want the job? Of course I do. But, in the end, it’s just an office job. Do I want it as bad as that dread-locked woman I met once, for five minutes, in a downtown bar five years ago and never saw again? – Not even close. I need the money. The job is a means to an end and I am under no illusion that it will be life fulfilling. Therefore, what terror can an interview hold? If I don’t get the job, I’ll go work in a video store or some fucking thing. It’s just a job.

The Buddha was right – suppress those desires.