Terminally Unemployable

As I reflect on my batting average regarding jobs applied for within the NHSLC, I'm thinking it ain't too pretty.
I got to be honest with you, I would not have hired me after yesterday's interview. I was a rambling, babbling, sometimes completely silent participant in the game. The Pseudo Grand Inquisitor has seen me three times, and I was hoping he would be enlightened enough to say "Hey this poor chump had a bad day, but I have seen his best and he is good." But that would be thinking creatively.
I understand the rules. I get the game. Yesterday was yesterday and I blew it. Previous yesterdays mean nothing. Although I'm sure there was still an element of predetermination involved in the decision.
I was tired. I was hungover. That affected my decision. But I am also burned out on the process. Burned out on the questions. Burned out on chasing something I don't want but have to have, within an organization I know I cannot trust in the long run.
Watching Ted Bundy last night. On his last day on earth, when they woke him to prepare him for his execution, he sat up reluctantly on his bed. They asked him to get up and he was sliding his feet around, squirming and not getting up. Obviously every fiber of his being was saying "Please don't make me get up."
I laughed when I saw that scene. Because I felt exactly like that as I prepared to leave for the interview that morning.
Got out of the recliner after studying for a while and my brain was screaming "This is so goddamn stupid. I cannot believe I am doing it again. I do not want to do it again." I shuffled around the house getting dressed and the whole thing felt surreal. The drive in was surreal. Sitting in Interrogation Room #666 was surreal. Escaping was surreal, which made it a perfect day for movie watching. I watched three in case you are keeping count.
Part of my poor performance can be attributed to the fact that I am human and that there are no rules, no consistencies, no logic being applied. My brain could not accept that I was going through the motions one more time, answering some of the same questions for the third of fourth time.
I am not even sure that I could drag myself in for another interview. I have no idea how I would prepare for it. I don't know how I can trick myself into believing there is something meaningful here and that there is some correlation between my being forced through another charade, and the prospect of landing a job.
The first two times around I was a good boy, a model citizen. Freshly scrubbed, clean faced and eager to please, like a little puppy dog. Before the third interview I consumed a little alcohol, lightweight stuff just to calm me down. This time I went in tired and hungover.
I am not sure I can do this again. I am not sure I want to. There has to be some karma here, given the fact that I am trying so hard to land a job within an organization as vile as this. And that I know this is not my destiny.
But if I can crank it up one more time, LSD has to be the answer. A head full of psychedelics may be the only way to understand exactly how these people work.
It will certainly make them more interesting to look at.