I’m good at job interviews because I’m polished and articulate, and because I come across as smart and quick witted. Once upon a time I’d have added that I present well, that I look the part, that I have the necessary presence to impress. Those are things that have counted for a lot, but I’m less sure of their efficacy in 2015.
I’m bad at interviews because I can never get my spirit around the concept of asking for something. I always take the attitude that I’m interviewing them to see if I want the job, as much they’re interviewing me. I resile from the notion that I need to shape myself to their requirements.
More often than not I come out of an interview situation with a small part of me feeling sour, no matter how well the interview has gone. It’s an unhealthy way to be. Interviews are processes of proving yourself, when all my life I’ve never felt I’ve had to prove myself to anyone.
I don’t do supplication well. My father always used to say, even when I was a kid, that I had a chip on my shoulder. I always figured that was his cock-eyed way of looking at things – few people measure up in his eyes. But maybe there is truth to it, if not then, then now.
Funny if it is. Basically I’m living on my knees. If there’s a time I can’t afford to be too proud then it’s now. I have moderated my behaviour and outlook in the face of that, been humbled by my circumstances and occasionally have reached out to seek the help I never would before. There’s a part of me that won’t be subjugated though. Fortunately it’s the part of me that keeps my head above water – the perverse, stubborn, determined part that won’t admit defeat.
It’s something I need to learn though. Occasionally I have been accused by my father that I acted if I was entitled. I think that’s specifically untrue, but on reflection wonder whether he has misconstrued a related condition.
I don’t expect things. I certainly don’t believe I deserve anything. I’m willing to fight and strive, and in fact enjoy that – that’s part of my identity. I still have great self belief in my fundamental self. Perhaps what he wants, and perhaps what I should ask of myself now, is to moderate my expectations of life.
I’ve always had the view, you’ve got one life, make the most of it. Dream, and make it so. It’s my life, I used to think. I was always possessive over that – my life – as if it was special for being mine, which it is. Your life is the most special thing you have. It’s the thing that makes you unique. Still, I was always more possessive in that sense, and more aware of it, than anyone.
I always believed that I was one of the fortunate who had the capabilities to actually make my dreams true. When more practical types would question or doubt I would turn to them and say this is my life, I am me, why should I not strive to be more? And if I don’t for myself, who will?
Occasionally it’s an attitude that has put the odd nose out of joint. Who does he think he is thinking that? It’s as if by wanting more I was offending those who were content to accept less.
It’s hard to justify those lofty beliefs now, when I’m poised to be homeless again. But, you know, I still believe. Go figure.
I believe because I’ve come to have absolute and total faith in my ability to endure. I can get through this, because I’ve got through it before. I believe because I think I have an excellent mind still. And I believe because there is far to go in this journey yet, this is now, the future is still happening. I’m positive, regardless of my present circumstances.
Of course this may be fantastical, and me deluded. People may shake their heads at that. But, if nothing else folks, know that I need something to believe in.
There are things I need to change though. I need to soften the edges. I shouldn’t be so proud. I need to accept that I must get on my knees sometimes. I’ve got nothing to be precious about.
I’m learning, and open to learning more. This too is part of the journey I spoke of. It’s not just what I can do, it’s who I become. Fortunately I’m self aware and relatively honest with myself (I think). If I can’t be honest with myself in this situation, when will I ever?