Being overprepared has been my secret weapon since childhood. From Mario Kart victories to job interviews, the obsessive instinct to prepare has shaped my career and income in ways I never expected.
I sat in my room in my student house, phone still in my hand, with a face full of confusion. Definitely not the kind of expression that you’d normally expect from someone who’d just heard he’d been offered his first job after having completed his studies.
Receiving such news would probably make most people start grabbing for a bottle of bubbles out of excitement, or stay on the phone to immediately inform their friends and family. The total confusion and surprise, however, came from the fact that this moment had been completely unexpected.
The recruiter I’d had my job interview with a couple of days earlier had called to let me know they already wanted to offer me the job after just one interview, and that the normally mandatory IQ test and second interview round were going to be skipped if I would accept it.
I’d known the video call had gone well, there hadn’t been a single moment where I’d struggled to express myself and every answer had come out clear and composed. But skipping two-thirds of the hiring process? That one had come just as unexpected as someone trying to get a piggyback without giving a heads-up, causing you to collapse through your legs on the spot.
The recruiter told me that the way I’d presented myself and answered their questions was enough reason to get me ‘off the market’ as soon as possible. What the recruiter and the hiring manager didn’t know, however, was that looking composed and presenting myself well during the call had actually been the easy part. The hard part had been the maniacal preparation for the interview the week before, behind closed doors and with a combination of luck and intensity that probably would’ve concerned anyone witnessing up close.
The Head Start From My Network
Since my bank account was approaching a state of total emptiness, landing a good and enjoyable job when an opportunity for it presented itself had become critical. I’d been putting out applications for months, while still being selective about what I actually wanted rather than just spamming resumes everywhere. And for a while, nothing was biting.
But when a recruiter suddenly contacted me with a job proposal that seemed like a one-in-a-million chance, a friend who’d graduated a couple years earlier and worked for a London-based recruitment company at the time became my saving angel.
Despite not having seen each other for a couple of years, I reached out to her and asked if she would be willing to share her own experiences when finding a job and if she had any tips around the whole process.
She came back with something better than I ever could’ve hoped and asked for: an internal document her company used for interview preparations as well as for conducting them. She gave it to me with an accompanying disclosure to only use it at my own discretion and not share it with others, ever. Knowing she was undoubtedly violating a couple of company policies just to help me out, that’s exactly what I did.
The document was focused on the English job market, but the core of it was universal: how recruiters evaluate candidates, what they’re trained to listen for, and what signs might raise red flags. It also contained explanations about the etiquette around follow-ups, tone, and how to handle difficult questions without stepping on a landmine.
In other words, it was an absolute goldmine for someone in my position. Where most people tend to prepare for interviews by rehearsing answers to common questions, I’d suddenly found myself in the lucky position of being handed a playbook from the other side of the table.
Making the Document My Own
I spent the following days turning that elaborate document into a framework I could make my own. Nothing too complex, just a structured approach to three things: making the story behind my application crystal clear to myself, knowing who I was talking to on the other side of the table, and being able to talk about my personality, strengths and weaknesses in a way that was both honest and fitting. The goal wasn’t to perform a different version of myself, but to make sure the real one came across as clearly as possible and that I wouldn’t say anything inappropriate in the heat of the moment.
By the time the online interview (covid-19 was roaming wild at the time) came around I wasn’t just prepared, I was overprepared to the point where it probably had even stopped being healthy. I’d researched the company, the industry, and the problems they were solving. I’d rehearsed answers out loud, alone in my apartment, refining them until they sounded natural rather than scripted.
I also skipped hanging out with housemates that week to give myself the best possible shot. Not my most charming moment in hindsight, because when preparation mode kicks in I tend to dive into it with a focus that doesn’t leave much room for the people around me and makes me totally forget to pay attention to their needs.
But during the interview itself, all the preparation paid itself back. The recruiter and hiring manager asked questions, and I had answers. Not rehearsed ones that sounded robotic, but the kind that came from having thought deeply enough about them that the right words were simply there.
And as said, the outcome of that one interview was fortunately even better than I ever could’ve imagined.
The Mariokart Mindset
In the weeks after the interview and starting the job, as the dust settled and the relief of having a stable income sank in, I found myself thinking about where that obsessive preparation instinct had actually come from. It hadn’t been the only time that such an amount of maniacal and borderline socially inappropriate focus had manifested itself, so it got me thinking when the first time had been that I’d actually experienced something like it.
I came to the conclusion that it was actually much earlier than I would’ve expected, because my mind went quickly to playing Mario Kart as a kid.
The first time I played Mario Kart with my older cousins on the Nintendo DS, I got absolutely demolished. Dead last, every single round. At one point they laughed a bit too hard, and I walked away crying to find my parents. I was maybe eight or nine years old, and I realized two things that day: Rainbow Road is unforgiving chaos disguised as fun, and I really, really hated losing. Probably even more than I actually loved winning.
So I did what any slightly obsessive kid with too much free time and a grudge would do: practice just as obsessively as you would playing the drums if it helps impressing the girl you like. It meant hours of figuring out every drift, shortcut, and item box until it became second nature.
A couple of weeks later at the next family gathering, the tables had turned. I didn’t just win once, I actually won every single race. Even my uncles and aunts had to jump in to try and beat me, but they couldn’t.
The only problem of my ultimate victory streak and sweet revenge? I wasn’t invited to play anymore during the next family gathering, because it turns out nobody enjoys game night anymore when the little cousin suddenly decides to treat it like Formula 1 qualifying.
At the time it was just a silly family gaming story. But sitting at home, thinking about how I’d approached the job interview with that same slightly unhinged level of focus, I realized the pattern had been there all along. The meticulous and maniacal preparation wasn’t something I’d learned for the interview, it something I’d always done when I really wanted to get something.
And as unhealthy as the focus and obsession might have been at times, it’s a character trait that has actually paid serious dividends over time.
Preparation Compounds (Just Like Money)
Today I earn well above the Dutch average at a relatively young age. A significant part of that is undeniably privilege and a very heavy dose of luck, but also maniacal preparation nudging the odds in my favor during key moments.
Preparation in that sense actually works a lot like long-term investing: Each small effort feels insignificant at first, but do it long enough and the effects eventually start to show.
And the payoff isn’t only financial. Preparation buys you something even more valuable: confidence. It makes challenges or interviews feel manageable, opportunities less scary, and setbacks less permanent. That’s also why senior-level jobs almost always require experience, because experience is ultimately just preparation in disguise.
Of course you can never be 100% prepared, there will always be stuff you can only figure out by doing. But if money compounds when you save and invest, preparation compounds when you repeat small habits of learning, practicing, and showing up ready at critical moments.
From Mario Kart victories to overprepared first interviews, all of the preparation moments in my life looked small on their own. But over time, they stacked. Each effort built on the next until it wasn’t just a skill or a win anymore. It became a way of moving through life.
And when the next banana peel shows up on the road? I’ll be ready for that one too.
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