Exam at a university

So, I did it. I took a train and went to pass this oral exam that might make me enter public service and have a stable job.

I have little to say about the journey, but the city I was in is nice. It looks pretty. It's got a different vibe than the one I live in, which looks cold in comparison. But just because it looks nice doesn't mean living there is. Some cities are pretty but they're absolutely unlivable (cf Paris, it's good for vacations but when you live here... well).

I actually passed my exam in an university for some reason even if I will not get a job at a university. It was strange seeing all those young students. I remembered my own stint at studying back when I was 17-18. I didn't think I was this young back then.

***

18-year-old Aka would've broken your heart, or just concerned you, or both. I thought I had borderline personality disorder then (turns out, I don't have it). I was emotionally unstable, shrinking myself down because my natural bluntness and sometimes straight up foul mouth was getting me negative reactions from people, I just desperately wanted friends and a girlfriend. In fact, that was my only reason for going to college. I never cared for it otherwise. Schoolwork had already become obsolete to me, having to go to school regardless of how bad I had it had traumatized me enough that I spent half of my last year of high school in my room living at night, so going to university to get more studying and exams wasn't exactly my reason. I already did not have any slight care for a "future". 

Hell, even my dorm room ended up filthy because I spent more time escaping through video games, dangerous night walks that thankfully didn't have me raped and murdered and dumped into the Garonne river, shopping on YesStyle and going to coffeeshops all the damn time, and I barely had the energy to clean and tidy up, and there also happened to be roaches in my building that were impossible to get rid of despite multiple extermination attempts. It didn't make it any better, and my sink got clogged at some point, so water stagnated. I tried to unclog it but it appears the problem was further down. 

It was an unrenovated building, built back in the 60s. I think it's in better shape now: I reckon it was patched up and modernized a few years ago.

As usual, I was motivated by love. The carrot was love. The carrot was a girlfriend (which I never got), but also friends (who were shitty). The stick was life itself, grades, and how people felt about me. I could never really care about studies or a future when I was in school because all I thought about was love and being loved by someone. People acted as if it was abnormal but when I think of it, love and belonging definitely comes before self-actualization. If that third stratum is not fulfilled, you can't quite have a working pyramid.

It was that year that I got abused by the Korean frenemy, and also that year where I learned people can actually be more interested in a Kpop idol's suicide than their own friend with a broken heart right next to them, looking for company and comfort. Out of the three who were my main friends, I kept only one, and she was the one I was the least close to. The others? I can't even fathom reconnecting with them. Eight years later I'm still mad.

***

Those kids at uni, they all look the same. And not only that, they look like teenagers, because... they are. If there's something you realize as you get older, it's that pretty much no one is an adult at 18. Me? I was looking kind of alt, kind of fancy, but it definitely still had an awkwardness to it. I remember how fat my eyeliner was, and how I'd only wear that. Eyeliner. I would wear lots of hats. I didn't yet care for my hair like I do now so it was long but also much more damaged. 

***

I waited for a while before the exam. I actually passed late and was starting to stress out because my train was at 5:30pm and I was supposed to be called in at 4, but it took until 4:20pm to call me. 

It was a young guy who came. The jury was him, a blonde woman and a mean-looking older one. I was stressed out, my heart was pounding, but I did my best to deliver and adjust my word flow so I could last five minutes. Then came the questions and I could tell they tried to destabilize me. Not only that but they got worse, especially the mean-looking older lady. I don't know if I disappointed them or if I failed, but at the same time, Hera had told me that the jury basically will act a certain way to try and destabilize you.

Considering I'm someone who remains very stoic even in the face of the worst danger possible, I guess the jury got harder specifically because of that: pointing out little things, asking me questions to make me doubt, also refute the fact that civilians can live in military quarters (wrong, otherwise where am I living?). But I kept calm. In the moment I was just honest when I didn't know, and I was also honest when I wasn't sure of something. 

They asked me where I'd see myself in five years. I lied straight in their eyes. That I'd still be working simply like that. I didn't tell them I would probably try again at the competitive exam to become a secretary. I didn't tell them I would try my best to get transferred overseas and remain there. I didn't tell them I actually just want a stable job. 

So, if the job you were offered were a finance job, would you accept it?

I'll be honest here, I'm not good at finance. I wouldn't take it, would rather have someone else who knows better take it.

You'd refuse a job because it's in finance?

Yes. I wouldn't take it, would rather have someone else who knows better take it.

Don't know if I seemed sure of what I wanted, aware of my shortcomings, or just unambitious. But fuck no I wouldn't want to work in a financial or pension service. I'm damn terrible at math and I hate money. I'd hate that job. But does that imply I should take it in the ass and say thank you just because it's a job I'm offered so I have to be grateful?

Indeed, perhaps it was just that... trying to break my stoic façade. It half-worked. There are 23 jobs. We're something like 150 candidates. Many weren't here but still. I doubt that they'll choose me. Because, you know. I'm not the perfect candidate. 

***

I took a McFlurry on the way back. It's hot as hell again, and I desperately wanted some ice cream. But when I got on a high-speed train for a single hour portion during the return trip, I noticed something that also happens when I'm in a car on the highway: I seem to be developing a fear of speed. 

I was on the verge of a panic attack for the first quarter or something. The train. I wanted it to stop. I suddenly remembered I was sitting still in a metal box going at 200km/h. This fucking fast. Same feeling as when I'm on the highway at 100 or 110. I'm not hitting 130, oh God. Not only aren't us new drivers not allowed to go past 110, I also would have a heart attack. 

But then, it eased. Still... I notice that this fear is becoming more and more prominent. I'm not even sure when it started. I knew already at 16 that I felt uneasy in trains when riding backwards but that was out of fear of being sick and my senses just generally not liking it. But now, a decade later, I'm starting to be scared of how fucking fast the damn thing goes. 

I wonder if it's not being forced to drive on a ring road when I wasn't ready that started my whole fear of speed. Or having to go up to 80km/h in one of my first lessons. The first time I did it, even if it's now a speed I'm comfortable at or fairly if I'm not tired, I felt like my soul was leaving my body...

***

Anyway. It may seem a little lacking for such a big day, but I'm tired. I had made myself hard-boiled eggs to eat upon coming home and I just finished my dinner.

Tomorrow, back to work. I'll touch things up with my professional advisor, Hera, and Capella.

Good evening, internet. 

***

PS: Also, at the McDonald's, I saw a fellow flower bearer ;) She didn't see me, but the octopus does her thing...