When you’re invisible in the industry, sometimes the first thing to clean is the part of you that’s still trying.
Let’s talk about something unorthodox—cleaning.
Yeah, you read that right. This isn’t a post about the best IDE plugins or how to structure your backend API. This is about something far more personal. I want to talk about mess, vulnerability, and the strange catharsis that comes with wiping a table or vacuuming a rug when your career feels like it’s in limbo.
The Chaos Around Me Was a Mirror
Lately, I’ve been in the trenches. Looking for work. Hoping. Watching people around me watch me—subtly, curiously, sometimes even critically.
And in that stillness, that stagnation of being “between” things, I noticed everything around me was dirty. I’m not talking just about dishes in the sink or piles of laundry I promised I’d fold yesterday. I mean real, soul-level disarray.
There was clutter on my desk and clutter in my head. There was grime on my window and grime on my self-worth. It got to a point where people were pointing things out to me—”Hey, maybe you should clean up a bit,” or worse, silently judging what they saw. And the worst part?
I already knew.
And it hurt.
Because it wasn’t laziness. It wasn’t neglect. It was just that everything inside of me had crumbled into survival mode. All I wanted—was a job. A chance to feel like I mattered again. Like I had purpose. Like I wasn’t just some invisible body floating through this city, this country.
But in the silence of being unseen, I disappeared even to myself.
The Mirage of the Dream Job
I still daydream about waking up to an email: “We’d love to offer you the position.” No hoops. No 5-stage interviews. No take-home assessments that mimic unpaid work. Just, “We see you. You’re in.”
But that kind of fantasy, I’ve realized, is a mirage. It’s a mental coping mechanism—a beautiful illusion when the world feels like it doesn’t care who you are unless you’re already something.
It’s hard being in this space. It feels like you’re either building an empire or completely falling apart—there’s no in-between. And in tech, where portfolios, GitHub stars, and LinkedIn clout are the new currency, not having a job feels like not having a voice.
I’ve worked odd jobs—”guns for hire” type of work—just to get by. Cleaning, industrial stuff, nothing glamorous. And while I appreciate the grind, I also know it’s not where I want to be. Not forever.
The Self-Realization That Slapped Me
Cleaning my room wasn’t a productivity hack. It was a spiritual breakdown. It was realizing that every dish left unwashed was another version of me that said, “What’s the point?” Every piece of clutter was a physical manifestation of doubt, insecurity, and grief.
But here’s the twist.
I started cleaning.
Bit by bit. Room by room. Trash bag by trash bag. I didn’t have a “come to Jesus” moment. I didn’t blast motivational music or watch a TED talk. I just started throwing things out. Wiping surfaces. Organizing drawers.
And you know what? I started to see myself again.
This person, me—someone who’s trying. Who hasn’t given up. Who’s still learning how to show up, even if the world isn’t watching.
The House Inspection and the Ultimatum
Now, here’s where things took a literal turn.
I had a house inspection coming up, and my room was a colossal mess. It had gotten to a point where I was just doing things based on priority—trying to get by and survive, but not really maintaining a clean space or a clean mind. The night before the inspection, I found myself scrambling.
On top of that, my landlord dropped an ultimatum on me, almost like a reality check. In their own words: “You need to make that money or get a job, otherwise I’ll have to kick you out.”
Talk about feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders.
It wasn’t just about cleaning my room for the inspection; it was about cleaning up my act in every sense. It forced me to look at myself in the mirror and realize that I couldn’t keep going this way.
Addendum: They didn’t actually see me clean my room, but they knew about it. I’m pretty sure it was obvious. People also knew I wasn’t taking care of myself prior to this—I was sick or fasting, trying to stretch the little I had left financially, and just not having the support I needed. Again, I’ve mentioned this before, but this month, I told myself change needs to happen—and I mean it, with everything I’ve got. I don’t want to go back to that dead-end cleaning job I had before. It’s the last thing I want to do. I don’t have to go through it again, and I’m fighting to make sure that doesn’t happen.
In Australia, there’s so much potential for landing a job that isn’t a “cleaning job” or something in hospitality. Even those are pivotal roles, but why is it so hard to break through? It’s flustering. It really is.
But again, this post is about cleaning. Cleaning—not just physically, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually too.
The New Initiatives
So, I decided to take initiative. I didn’t just clean up physically; I started reshaping my approach to life and my career. I’ve set out to accomplish the following:
- Deep Clean My Room: This wasn’t just a quick tidy-up. This was a deep clean—the kind where you wipe everything down, toss what doesn’t belong, and give your space a fresh start. I realized that having a clean space makes all the difference in having a clear mind.
- Get Back to #100DaysOfCode: I’ve held off on my #100DaysOfCode challenge for a while, but now I’m tackling it head-on. It’s a clear, achievable goal, and I’m going to see it through. It’s time to code every day, no excuses.
- Catch Up on Blogging: I’ve let my writing fall to the side, but it’s time to commit to daily blogging. I’m going to document my journey—my ups, my downs, my lessons learned—and get my thoughts out there, even if it’s just for myself at first.
- Reshape My Image: I know I’ve talked about this before, but it’s essential for me. Whether it’s how I present myself online or the impression I leave on others, it’s time to reshape my image to reflect who I’m becoming, not who I was.
- Create an Action Plan for Immediate Results: Finally, I’m putting together a realistic plan for immediate action. It’s about taking the next step and getting results now—whether it’s an interview, a coding project, or a new networking opportunity.
Job Application Fatigue
Here’s another reality I’ve faced head-on: I’ve applied for over 400 jobs. The job market is tough, especially when you’re just trying to get your foot in the door. And every single time, I go through the same loop: I apply, I get an automated message that says, “Unfortunately, you didn’t get the job, but wish you luck in your future application journey.”
It’s disheartening. It stings. And yet, I keep going. Why? Because I need a job. No matter how many times the door closes, I’m knocking on it again. I have to. This is the journey I’m on, and it’s not going to be easy.
But I’m not giving up. It’s a painful cycle, but each rejection teaches me something new—how to refine my approach, how to sharpen my skills, how to stay resilient.
Wins in the Silence
Despite how invisible I’ve felt, there have been wins. Small ones, but real.
I’ve been invited to interviews.
I’ve completed code assessments.
I’ve received feedback—both good and constructive.
And every single one has taught me something. Every failure gave me an insight on how to approach the next opportunity. Every rejection, as painful as it is, made my skin thicker and my approach smarter.
I haven’t given up. And that’s something.
Presence Is Everything
I used to think presence meant having a flashy portfolio or a viral post on dev.to. Now I understand—it means being fully here, even when no one else is clapping.
I’m building my presence now. Through code. Through writing. Through the quiet things—like cleaning up, journaling, building again after everything breaks.
Even this blog post? It’s part of that process.
I’m trying to be seen. Not just by hiring managers or algorithms, but by myself.
Final Thoughts
If you’re out there struggling too, I see you. If your room is a mess and your GitHub is untouched and your inbox is full of “We regret to inform you”—I see you.
Start small.
Take a shower. Make your bed. Answer that email. Apply for one job. Write one line of code. Vacuum the floor. Reclaim a little piece of your space, and with it, a little piece of yourself.
Sometimes cleaning your room really is the first step to cleaning your mind. And in that process, you just might start seeing the person who’s been fighting this whole time:
You.
— Rama K.S.