First, updates: I got an email from a recruiter who’s seen my resume and wants to talk to me about a job. It’s an entry-level job, and pays a good 20% less than what I was making, but it’s something. It’s supposed to be an excellent company to work for – I interviewed there for a supervisor job a couple of years ago and was impressed. And if I get it, the health benefits start on day 1.This is good because I very much need to get back into therapy and get back on my meds. Between the stress and the isolation and my usual chronic issues, I am in a bad place. I know that. And I don’t like it where I am. I don’t like me where I am: I feel like a frightened little child, and I’m finding it harder and harder to find the happy. So fingers crossed for that.
EDIT: One obstacle down, several more to go – I have a phone interview for Tuesday afternoon.
Onwards, sidewards. (This, by the way, is my 200th post here. Yay milestones!)
I’ve been addicted to Civilization since it came out twenty years ago. (Wow. Scary thought, that – twenty years? A videogame? Time marches while tech teleports.) For those not familiar, Civilization is a strategy game: you start out leading a tiny tribe of Stone Age people, and your job is to get them to survive all the way to the point where they can colonize another planet. There are several other civilizations sharing your world, all trying to do the same thing in their own way. You build cities, you develop technologies, you negotiate with competing powers. And when negotiation fails you send forth your armies to kicketh ass.
I remember back in the early days I could spend an entire Saturday playing the game – 18 hours at my desk, almost without getting up. I play Civ 4 now – there are some differences, but fundamentally it’s still the same thing. I find it calming – there’s a rhythm to the game the way I play it. Build cities, grow cities to their maximum potential, keep the research going without going broke. It’s very repetitive, and I usually don’t get around to focusing on winning until pretty near the end. (Which is why I generally only win playing at the beginner level.)
The game’s AI plays strangely sometimes. I’ve seen medieval civilizations try to attack modern civilizations with sheer numbers – you need a huge numerical advantage when you’re charging my machine guns, tanks, and jet fighters with swords and bows. I’ve seen it conquer cities on the other side of the planet and ignore the intervening ones, knowing full well there’s only a remote chance they’ll be able to hold on to them at that distance. I’ve even seen it cheat by moving my strong defensive units out of the way to attack my now-undefended weak units.
Up until recently, I always played at the beginner level. It’s a long game and challenging that way, but not so much so that I can’t generally pull off a win. Of course the game rewards that kind of play by giving me low scores: there’s no big kudos for beating a kid. So I’ve started playing at the next level up. I win a lot less often – as in rarely – but I’ve learned some new tricks, and I’ve figured out how not to get crushed early on. And I’ve even learned a few lessons.
- Lesson the first: life is cat-skinning. I always play the same strategy. I build my empire slowly and peacefully. I pick out a neighbor or two to conquer, and I build up such overwhelming force that they have almost no chance to resist. This usually happens pretty close to the pre-determined end of the game. But there are several ways to win. You can conquer 60% of the planet. You can get five cities to such an advanced level of culture that your culture basically assimilates the world. You can be the first to get a spaceship to Alpha Centauri. Or you can get the UN to vote you world leader. So when I spend all my efforts on conquest, someone else focuses on spaceship construction and beats me. When I focus on spaceship construction, someone else turns all their resources to cultural development. I’ve learned that it’s important to have balance, and to be willing to switch to plan B when plan A isn’t working.
- Lesson the second: fortune favors the bold. I laugh a little at the zillions of swordsmen charging my tanks and machine guns, but the futility of that depends on your goals. I may take out ten of their units for every one of mine they wear down, but I also have to switch a lot of resources from science and commerce to military production in order to replace those losses and push back the hordes. And damned if it doesn’t work sometimes – it distracts me and slows me down enough to miss someone else pulling ahead.
You could really lump both of these lessons into one – winning is a matter of perspective. It’s like running for President. Ron Paul, for example, knows perfectly well he has no real chance of winning the White House. But by putting in the time and energy to make a serious attempt, he gets more opportunities to spread the message about his pet issues. He gets more press coverage. He makes more contacts. He builds a bigger network and gets his supporters energized to spread the word. So for him, that’s the win: he’s running in 2012 so his ideas have a better shot in 2016 and 2020 and on down the line.
I’m starting to see how that works in life. For a long time, I’ve been focused on material comforts. I’d have denied it if you asked me, but it was true: I was working to try and afford cool toys and books and whatever else I wanted. I wanted to get promoted and get more money so I could do more of the same. But that hasn’t worked. I’m not exactly dancing for capitalist joy, and that’s not just because of my illness.
I’m happiest when I’m with the people I love. I’m happiest when I’m writing. Work buys me some time for that, but if I think of myself as my work – if I think of myself as a call center manager, or a retail manager, or whatever – I don’t get to enjoy that because I’m constantly thinking it’s not enough. I’ve bought into the crazy career treadmill, the idea that we all have to keep moving up just to move up. (Mind you, I’m not arguing against ambition. There’s reasons to move up besides a bigger check and a bigger office. There’s pride in your accomplishments, a desire to make a difference and help others … there are as many paths as walkers. I’m just saying my reasons aren’t good.) And that’s why I’m constantly embarrassed by that “so what do you do?” question. There’s nothing wrong with supervising call center reps. But if you’re convinced that the only way you should be proud of yourself is if you have a nice office and a fat paycheck to go with your fancy title, you’re going to hate that question. And you’re going to hate yourself for your answer, every time.
So I’m thinking more about that. I’m thinking more about other ways to win.
