Replaying the intro mission... Again.

Two years ago today, I started a new job at Indeed. I had no idea what I was doing.

They'd reached out to interview me before I ever saw a job listing. Everyone seemed convinced I was the right person for the job. At some point, I had to take it on faith that I must be doing something right; what that thing was, I still couldn't tell you.

Just like in 2015, when Wolfram called me out of the blue to tell me I should be a technical writer. I had little clue what that entailed, but it sounded like something I'd enjoy. I'd applied as a kernel developer. I never got a clear answer to why they'd called me back for this position instead. Someone looked back at my resume and saw a career path for me that I'd never considered.

In both cases, my manager and teammates comforted me by saying it took a while to really get used to the job. Of course it did; that didn't make the process any less unsettling. And despite my persistence in trying to learn the rules and cadences of the job, it seemed impossible. They kept changing. I'd switch managers or titles or departments, or a project would get scrapped and we'd start something else. 

Video games often have an introduction mission the player must complete before starting the actual game. It's a design feature I appreciate from a storytelling standpoint, and in theory it's an engaging way to demonstrate the the basics of the game. But as an impatient gamer and PC power user, I find it infuriating. New computer? Intro mission. New character? Intro mission. Had to reinstall the game due to corrupted game files? Better play through that intro again.

I've never played the single-player game aside from this mission.
I don't even know these characters' names.

I've had to do this probably a dozen times for Grand Theft Auto V. I don't even play the single-player game; this usually happens when I'm rushing to reinstall it to play a mission with some friends after a long hiatus. Perhaps patience and foresight are the obvious lessons. But it's more than that. 

Starting over stings.

Most of my real-life restarts have been positive lately. I've been trying my best to treat the current situation as a chance for personal reflection and improvement, and for the most part it's working. But it still stings. There's a certain feeling of helplessness that creeps in, like I'm in control but still stuck on rails somehow. 

If going from one tech writer position to another felt like replaying the intro mission, this feels like playing a whole different game. Maybe it's better dropping me into an open world. I don't know the controls yet, and nobody's going to show me. But I'll push a few buttons and see what happens.