Pity the plight

I had forgotten what it means to actively look for a job.
Writing resumes and updating CVs and googling what a cover letter is and applying for things even if you don't know exactly what a 'copy collector' does.
And then not getting any replies, even though you sent more emails to strangers than you have sent to your friends/family in the past year.

I had an audition for an interview today. Or that is how I saw it, because the interview was at a recruitment agency which then presents your CV, generically re-typed, along with other CVs, and then the client chooses a CV and that person gets to come in for an actual interview.

It is a very strange beast, the corporate world. Very 'the Other' to me, haha. I have always felt more comfortable in a creative, cultural world, felt like it held some chance of belonging.

Now you, like every other woman there, are the length of your pencil skirt, your fake diamond/pearl earring studs, your black fake-leather handbag, your black mary janes, your position behind a desk doing admin. Want mens het moes altyd 'n girltjie nodig wat jou kopie vir jou kan doen of jou foon kan antwoord. This is not Suits, no sassy Donnas or Rachels in hot dresses. It feels a bit stifling, as if anything slightly different to 'order' and 'normal' and 'that is what one does' is this threat. Sure, I am exaggerating, but it bothers me when the summary of a life, already restricted to two pages, is then edited and changed to look like all the others.

I am not all the others.