Hi all,
Planning to apply for the Fall intake in 2025 and wanted some honest reviews of my profile. All feedback is welcome.
I'm an Indian male applicant.
Undergrad in Mechanical Engineering and Masters in Materials Engineering.
Ungergrad CGPA: 9.6 Masters CGPA: 9.91
GMAT FE First Attempt score: 615 (~680 on the Classic GMAT). Planning to re-take the exam in July.
Work Experience: 4 years working as an R&D Engineer for two prominent MedTech companies in the healthcare sector. Experienced in product design, program management and working with cross functional busines groups. Looking to transition into Technical Product Management post MBA.
EC: Engaged in CSR activities at work focussed on community service. Student Council representative at my college during my Master's program. Mentorship for new hires and graduates. Part of the soccer team at the collegiate and high school level.
Target Schools: Top 20 B-Schools in the US.
I genuinely feel like my GMAT score is very low for the schools I am targetting. Retaking the same may result in me not being able to apply for R1 of the upcoming intake. I appreciate your thoughts!

For the longest time, I thought was straight. This was probably because society just presents heterosexuality as the default for us, and that’s what I had seen and heard around me. I was attracted to guys as well, but never really a real guy, as in, celebrities, public figures – those were the men I liked or found attractive. But even then, I’d never had a crush on anybody, never truly liked anybody, celebrity or otherwise. But once I became an adolescent, I started consuming all sorts of straight romances – novels, movies, you name it – and that probably didn’t help with the heteronormative mindset that I had for myself, now that I look back on everything. I, even to this day get aroused my men of a particular stature, straight porn is my go-to, never cared for lesbian porn, or porn without a man in it basically, so I just deduced all this to mean that I was straight. I never was sexually attracted to women though, so I never even questioned myself because that’s what I thought everything boiled down to – sex, sexual attraction, etc. I do remember being obsessed with multiple women in my life, few of my teachers, some friends, actresses, singers, etc., but I just never looked at them from that angle, so I just thought it was admiration? I don’t know. I was in an all-girls school and because I also take time to get comfortable with people, I had barely any interaction with men. I had never had any guy friends either. So, I’d never liked, loved, dated, been in a relationship, with anybody. Even in my college, where I pursued my Bachelor’s, there were maybe 6-7 guys that I couldn’t care less for. So, I didn’t do anything during that time either.
Finally, when I was around 23, I moved to another city to pursue my postgraduation and there I made two friends (both girls) who I became very close to. But mostly it was just one of the two friends that I was very close to you. We were very emotionally attached each other, our relationship was very deep, very emotionally charged. I realized that I had never been this attached or invested in a friend before, which is saying a lot because I've had very deep friendships my whole life, so this friend, we can call her Hannah, who I'd known for barely 4-5 months and already opened up to more than I have opened up to my friend of 15 years, was surprising to me. So eventually, Hannah came out to me as a bisexual and I think that made me subconsciously realize that there could be something there because I had always thought she was straight, and that revelation changed things, which in hindsight shouldn't have, because if I was straight that wouldn't have made me lean more into our homoerotic friendship that it eventually did. I started feeling things sexually for her as well, and that was really confusing to me because I didn’t think I could be attracted to a woman in that way. But even then, I wasn’t attracted to other women sexually, just men. Eventually, I realized that I’m actually in love with her and told her about it too because we were not only really close friends but also roommates so I wanted to be honest with my intentions with her. I didn’t want to date her or do anything about my feelings really, because this was all new to me and I was pretty insecure about my lack of experience in dating, so her saying she doesn’t feel the same just bruised my ego a little bit but I anyway, wouldn’t have known what to do if she reciprocated. So, we still remained close, I was still in love with her, but even through my little hiccups of getting jealous and stuff, we managed to be close. So, through this, I realized that I wasn’t straight, and the obvious label that fit me seemed like “bisexual”. But because of the very special circumstances I had with Hannah, with so emotionally connected and then realizing I felt deeper things for her, and still not feeling attracted to women, made me realize that I could actually fall for anybody, regardless of gender, if I had an emotional basis with them, although this didn’t seem to fit my criteria with men. But slowly and gradually, I’ve found myself being more attracted to women the way I’ve been with men. Maybe when I allowed myself to love a woman, it opened up possibilities in my subconscious and maybe now, I’m letting myself be attracted to women. But here’s the problem, that my patience for men is running out, which is ironic because I’ve never dated anybody. I’ve never even given men chances. The attraction and feeling toward men that I have is purely carnal, whereas with women, it’s a certain level of reverence with which I feel for them, both in romantic and sexual way. And I’ve been trying to sort of online date people, but where I’m from, it’s hard to get women who are interested in other women, so I’m mostly getting men, and I’ve talked to a few men, but I’m just so wildly disinterested in them, it’s confusing and funny at the same time. And the friends I have here are all bisexuals so they just want me to explore my options and think that I should date men to see things through, but I just don’t feel like investing myself in them. So, the sexual attraction that I have for men is the only things that stops me from completely identifying as a lesbian, I guess. But I just don’t see myself having those soft, romantic feeling for men, and the way I do with women. This might be a problematic way to phrase it but – is this a phase? Like how when I thought I was straight and didn’t feel any attraction for women but when I let myself feel it for one woman, I started feeling it for other women too. Is this like a transition period to me just liking women? I’m just really confused.

For the longest time, I thought was straight. This was probably because society just presents heterosexuality as the default for us, and that’s what I had seen and heard around me. I was attracted to guys as well, but never really a real guy, as in, celebrities, public figures – those were the men I liked or found attractive. But even then, I’d never had a crush on anybody, never truly liked anybody, celebrity or otherwise. But once I became an adolescent, I started consuming all sorts of straight romances – novels, movies, you name it – and that probably didn’t help with the heteronormative mindset that I had for myself, now that I look back on everything. I, even to this day get aroused my men of a particular stature, straight porn is my go-to, never cared for lesbian porn, or porn without a man in it basically, so I just deduced all this to mean that I was straight. I never was sexually attracted to women though, so I never even questioned myself because that’s what I thought everything boiled down to – sex, sexual attraction, etc. I do remember being obsessed with multiple women in my life, few of my teachers, some friends, actresses, singers, etc., but I just never looked at them from that angle, so I just thought it was admiration? I don’t know. I was in an all-girls school and because I also take time to get comfortable with people, I had barely any interaction with men. I had never had any guy friends either. So, I’d never liked, loved, dated, been in a relationship, with anybody. Even in my college, where I pursued my Bachelor’s, there were maybe 6-7 guys that I couldn’t care less for. So, I didn’t do anything during that time either.
Finally, when I was around 23, I moved to another city to pursue my postgraduation and there I made two friends (both girls) who I became very close to. But mostly it was just one of the two friends that I was very close to you. We were very emotionally attached each other, our relationship was very deep, very emotionally charged. I realized that I had never been this attached or invested in a friend before, which is saying a lot because I've had very deep friendships my whole life, so this friend, we can call her Hannah, who I'd known for barely 4-5 months and already opened up to more than I have opened up to my friend of 15 years, was surprising to me. So eventually, Hannah came out to me as a bisexual and I think that made me subconsciously realize that there could be something there because I had always thought she was straight, and that revelation changed things, which in hindsight shouldn't have, because if I was straight that wouldn't have made me lean more into our homoerotic friendship that it eventually did. I started feeling things sexually for her as well, and that was really confusing to me because I didn’t think I could be attracted to a woman in that way. But even then, I wasn’t attracted to other women sexually, just men. Eventually, I realized that I’m actually in love with her and told her about it too because we were not only really close friends but also roommates so I wanted to be honest with my intentions with her. I didn’t want to date her or do anything about my feelings really, because this was all new to me and I was pretty insecure about my lack of experience in dating, so her saying she doesn’t feel the same just bruised my ego a little bit but I anyway, wouldn’t have known what to do if she reciprocated. So, we still remained close, I was still in love with her, but even through my little hiccups of getting jealous and stuff, we managed to be close. So, through this, I realized that I wasn’t straight, and the obvious label that fit me seemed like “bisexual”. But because of the very special circumstances I had with Hannah, with so emotionally connected and then realizing I felt deeper things for her, and still not feeling attracted to women, made me realize that I could actually fall for anybody, regardless of gender, if I had an emotional basis with them, although this didn’t seem to fit my criteria with men. But slowly and gradually, I’ve found myself being more attracted to women the way I’ve been with men. Maybe when I allowed myself to love a woman, it opened up possibilities in my subconscious and maybe now, I’m letting myself be attracted to women. But here’s the problem, that my patience for men is running out, which is ironic because I’ve never dated anybody. I’ve never even given men chances. The attraction and feeling toward men that I have is purely carnal, whereas with women, it’s a certain level of reverence with which I feel for them, both in romantic and sexual way. And I’ve been trying to sort of online date people, but where I’m from, it’s hard to get women who are interested in other women, so I’m mostly getting men, and I’ve talked to a few men, but I’m just so wildly disinterested in them, it’s confusing and funny at the same time. And the friends I have here are all bisexuals so they just want me to explore my options and think that I should date men to see things through, but I just don’t feel like investing myself in them. So, the sexual attraction that I have for men is the only things that stops me from completely identifying as a lesbian, I guess. But I just don’t see myself having those soft, romantic feeling for men, and the way I do with women. This might be a problematic way to phrase it but – is this a phase? Like how when I thought I was straight and didn’t feel any attraction for women but when I let myself feel it for one woman, I started feeling it for other women too. Is this like a transition period to me just liking women? I’m just really confused.

First/Previous
Carrion fowls perched along the far walls’ parapets and cawed vaguely with their red wetted beaks in whatever direction; other scavengers supped at the puddles or pecked along the softened flesh of the dead. The birds, variable vultures, hopped across the rubble and curiously side-eyed corpses and pierced the bruise-blackened bloated skins and stripped away long muscle threads and tossed them to catch, to choke back on what they’d done.
The birds which stared, looked dumbly from their perches, and watched Boss Maron (what was he a boss of anymore?) stumble around where he was. His shirt was tattered and bloodied-marks or claws shown across his forearms and his belly. He moved like a drunkard with his feet wide apart. In some commotion, he’d lost a boot and swiveled as carefully as he could when putting his bare right foot forward. My brother seemed to spawn from the mess, to arise only from his slumber at the sign of my approach and I wondered about destiny or fate and as I saw him there, as terrible as he was, he was no match if not for the pistol which hung from the holster on his hip.
In getting closer, I saw the band from his hat had burst and so hung stringlike from the brim and dangled with his footfalls by the eyepatch he wore.
A series of collapsed, nearly unrecognizable apartments had fallen and been flattened or forced to bend in jagged directions; old catwalk rails jutted from the spot of destruction like a mad spider’s legs—an unsettling image. This seemed to have been the place Maron took refuge from the attack.
Wherever I went, it seemed that death was either fast approaching or near ahead so I never could tell from what direction to expect it; but expecting death itself was sometimes enough. I took to a white and curved piece of stone dilapidation—likely a piece from the hydro towers—and used it to purchase higher ground and saw Maron stumble nearer. Through the new byways created by the destruction, he remained slow and struggled and remained so far out that I was uncertain whether he saw me.
The hiss of spitting broken water pipes filled the lulls between the bird calls. The sun was deep yellow against the red sky. The wind was cool and held me aloft like a puppet.
Precariously, I hunkered at my elevated position and rummaged through my satchel but found nothing. Instead, I left it there in that spot and climbed carefully to the earth and unbuckled the belt from around my waist and held it whip-ready, opposite the buckle-end; it was a thin and cheap thing but perhaps good enough. I moved toward my brother, openly. Whatever would be.
Forty yards separated us and there was enough of an area of open earth among the piled collections of destruction; he still looked like a shadow, like a half-illusion of a man against the backdrop of interlocking wreckage.
“Hey!” I called.
Maron stopped where he was and craned his head forward; dust rose from around his feet then settled. “Harlan?” He asked.
“Yeah.”
“I can’t see you too good, you know.” Maron scratched his right eye with a rotating knuckle; the skin seemed irritated. “Those bugs itch like a bitch, don’t they?”
“So they say,” I spat between where I’d spaced my legs.
He placed his hand on the handle of the revolver which stood out on his hip. “I could kill you, Harlan. I’ve got a clear shot here.”
“Yeah.”
“You’d deserve it, especially after what you did.” His voice was gravelly; he coughed and wiped his mouth with a forearm.
I took a small step forward and Maron removed the revolver from its holster but kept it pointed to the ground.
I shook my head and remained still again. “What about after all you did?”
“Me?” he laughed sickly, “You’re one to talk. I guess there’s no hiding it anymore. I was ashamed of you. You—cavortin’ with demons—that’s all you do. I think I saw you speak to them a couple times. I feel like you whisper to them in your sleep. I knew what kind of man you were all this time and I let you go on.”
“You let me, huh?” I glanced to the sky and breathed deep and listened to the birds. A tight-lipped expression pulled my face almost like a smile and I gritted my teeth. “Here I thought I let you.”
Maron laughed again wetly and remained with his gun down. The gunmetal shone bright as silver from either cleaning or handling; it was good to know he’d taken care of it at least.
“I cried about you,” I said—some roiling thing rolled over in the pit of my stomach.
“So?” he asked the sky.
I closed the space between us by a quarter or more and stopped. “So, did you ever cry about me? Did you ever cry about them?” The trailing end of my sentence nearly broke my voice, and I abruptly finished the words to protest it.
Maron shrugged. “’Course I did. All the time. For them. For you?” He shook his head. In the light—just so—his right eye glowed white; blood trickled from around the bottom eyelid from over-rubbing while yellow infection oozed from the bottom of the patch over his left eye. “Somethin’s wrong in you. You did something. I know you did. Maybe you prayed to them things. Maybe you asked for it—Lady did weird seances before she,” with his free hand, he twirled a finger by his ear. “Maybe you spoke to them and did what you did. All that good and evil talk that Jackson went on about doesn’t matter anymore,” Maron shrugged then nodded and wriggled his mustache in thought.
“You used to call him dad,” I said.
“We didn’t have any dads, you and me. Looking back now, I see our mother—if she was—was the worst about it. We were some ragtag bunch of monster hunters? There ain’t any good and evil in this world and that’s a fact. It’s all just livin’.”
“What made you that way?”
“What way’s that, Harlan?” He sighed.
“I thought you’d be a good man. You were a sweet boy.”
“I guess.” His blind gaze trailed away, watched the birds on the far walls, and his uncovered bleeding eye blinked slowly and with effort; he rubbed it again and smeared blood across his cheek and blinked more and seemed to focus. “What makes you sure you’re a good man?”
“I ain’t.”
“I didn’t figure you were.” His eye traced the scenery, seemed to look everywhere and beyond me even. “You do all this too? You call down your buddies for all this? I was afraid of you for a long time. Now I know I was right.”
“Mm. I didn’t.”
“Quite the coincidence that you’d hang and then all this happens to stop it. Nice for you. Look around at all them bodies. Tell me it’s worth it. I know you and I know what you are. Harold didn’t believe it—hell I didn’t want to believe it. Here we are.”
I shook my head and felt silly standing there and holding my belt like a dead snake by my side. “It wasn’t too long ago I thought similarly of you. I thought you’d been some possessed thing, something that wasn’t my brother anymore. Like you said. Here we are. I was blind for so long and I thought it couldn’t be that you’d be this way all on your own. I saw you grow into something unrecognizable,” My shoulders rolled with a shrug. “What’s it matter? What’s any of it matter? You thought I was some witch and I thought maybe some demon hijacked your body! What’s it matter? It doesn’t. I don’t care if you are who you are because of me or because of this world—it’s over. And here we are.” I took a gulp of air; it was rotten. “I loved you. I saw something change in you and blamed myself, blamed the demons; maybe you were a mutant! Bah! It’s just you. Whatever you are is just you—doesn’t really matter what made it. I don’t know how I could cry over someone like that. I just don’t know.”
Maron nodded at me, and I took a step forward; the Boss sheriff leveled the long barrel Colt in my direction. The sun beat down and I took another step forward and another until I was pacing, shoulders moving in tandem with each step—though my left knee twinged, it wasn’t pain; there was too much adrenaline for pain. The gun erupted, broke the dead air, a few birds cawed and flapped away but mostly remained and looked on with apathetic curiosity. I stood still. Maron missed, took aim again, and I began to further close the gap.
The pistol rang again; my imagination insisted I felt the breeze from the bullet. I did not care. Here we were and here it would be. Again, twice more, the gun cried out; the last of that duo spiked the earth up at my feet and sent dust into the air; I passed through it.
With Maron nearly in arm’s reach, I reared with the belt—remaining with my right leg on the backfoot—I swung the strap out like a whip and felt the belt slack as the buckle met Maron’s nose.
He stumbled backward, fired another round into the air and my ears rang and I launched into him.
With him being weak and feeble and ill and tired as he was, he fell slowly in the way that people do when they attempt to stop themselves from going. He spun on his naked heel and landed on his knees, hands in the dirt, revolver hilt loosely clamped in his fist. I sent a boot to his stomach and from seemingly nowhere a wild scream came from me—it was a moment of human satisfaction.
He laughed there on the ground, and it was so like gasping for air that I wasn’t sure that’s what I heard. “I hit you once, I see only just a bit out of the right and I still hit you!”
The numbness forgave a moment of pain—a jolt ran up my left arm. Without a moment afforded to inspect myself, I launched another kick just as he came around to raise his head. My boot caught his chin and clicked his teeth together; blood ran like a spigot from his mouth while the cowboy hat tumbled off the crown of his head and landed in the dirt beside him.
His eyepatch came unplaced from his left eye and rested over his brow before the strings came loose and the object fell off him. The black hole there in his head shone starkly when he calmed his head to look up at me; the other eye was milk white.
“I’m dying,” he said, “I’m dying, but I’m a pretty good shot, ain’t I?”
I didn’t say anything and placed my heel on his shoulder and propelled him over, so he fell onto his back. There on the ground, the pistol lay. I bent and dropped the belt and lifted the pistol— a single shot left. The thing was heavier than the metal it was.
Maron lifted up again and spoke, “I’m dying,” he repeated, “I’m dying.” His head rocked forward and back in exaggeration.
I shoved him down again, remembered the bodies he hung, remembered the people he assaulted, remembered the tortures—with him looking up at me though, I briefly remembered the boy behind that man’s face. I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t.
“I see a little out of the right, Harlan—like I said. C’mere a minute. Just a minute. Or a second even. All I want is a second. C’mere and let me see you a little clear for just one second.”
I never was a good shot anyway, but that wouldn’t have mattered; I angled the revolver out from my body. He craned his head up for a better look maybe—like a varmint from a hole—and when he did, I fired the last shot and even though he’d grown so large in my mind, he still fell over like any man would. Blood spurted then trailed from his head; I swallowed a noise back.
Warm pain radiated from my left bicep, and I knew what it was; I threw back my jacket, so it hung only off my right shoulder and examined the spot. The notch was swollen, the flesh was gnarly and leaked. I cupped the heel of my hand to the wound while still holding the revolver and felt my heartbeat in it. Nothing stitches wouldn’t fix. So, Maron was a good shot. I lumbered over the corpse and stared into the one solid eye. Even blind, he got me once.
I sighed and half-straddled the corpse and ripped the gun belt off his waist and shoved it under my armpit then waddled over the dead man to the hat that’d fallen in the dirt. Our mother’s hat fit loose on my head, but her old belt slotted around me snug.
The wound didn’t clot, and blood ran in webs down my forearm and across the back of my hand. I shifted to look to the place I’d left the satchel and I saw an audience there—the underground survivors followed me out; they were arranged like tin solders frozen among the rubble outcroppings. Mal was there and nearest me. She called something out, but I didn’t respond. I shook my head as if to let them know I didn’t care and began to walk towards the piece of white rock. The broken band of the hat fell into the periphery of my left eye like a wayward strand of hair.
I slung the revolver into the holster on my hip and kept my right hand to my left bicep and gritted my teeth at the growing pain. Ointments were in the satchel and bandages and a bit of liquor—wizard brand.
Mal rushed out to me and slammed into me, and nearly put me over and the others too began to clamor off their perches—how they looked at me just like the birds.
Mal slammed her hands onto my shoulders. “You just killed and robbed him.”
I laughed. “Alright.”
“Why?”
I saw the boy—William—too had come and he remained among the small crowd that came around me.
“This needs treating,” I angled my head at the wound I held.
“What’d you kill him for?” asked Mal, again.
I ignored her, pushed beyond, and whispered something about going home.
The levels to the satchel were slow going and the people spoke amongst themselves, and I slammed my bottom onto the flat elevation and began to clean and wipe down. I fumbled with my right hand and kept my neck twisted just so and pried the wound a bit with my index finger and thumb. Blood ripped out of the spot, and I laughed and stopped and rewiped. Inside of the satchel there was a handheld staple gun. I put it to the spot, trying to keep the swollen opening closed. After a few overzealous clicks, I sighed and dropped the staple gun into the satchel.
From where I was, Maron looked small.
Like a whisper on the wind, I heard, I brought him to you one last time. Bravo! Well done!
I twisted around lackadaisically searching for the point of the voice and didn’t find it. “Stupid,” I whispered to myself.
Then I popped casually to my feet, felt the mild blood loss send me dizzy and I momentarily felt like I’d fall over and break my neck in front of all those fine people—what a laugh riot!
Mal’s incredulous expression was obvious even with the distance. “Hey!” I called out to Mal, to all of them, “I’m going home.”
“Where’s home?” asked someone.
“C’mon with me if you want.”
Some wanted and some didn’t, and we gathered twenty strong and Mal and William were among them. Lady surprisingly decided to fall along with those of us that left. Those that remained certainly died, but who’s to say?
All the horses were dead and even in searching for the oil wagon I’d rode in on, I couldn’t find it. Walking never bothered me anyway. When I grew tired, I used some discarded metal post as a third leg. We walked it and I thought it felt like a pilgrimage—damn all other religiosity. I hoped for the one and true religion: love.
Seven died westward. William succumbed to the skitterbugs and I managed to bury him even while others regarded the practice with apathy. Mal went quickly by a skin taker, and yet Lady remained; she was a hanger-on.
The only one that mattered to me was the one waiting for me—if they still waited. I hoped they did.
We saw Alexandria at dawn after many days of travel. Upon the sight of the arch along the skyline, whispers came over our group and one fellow wondered aloud if the arch was the source of all the magic the wizards knew. Lady rebutted the claim and cursed at the thought of it. Still though, she followed. I mindlessly told them it was the gateway to the west but that didn’t mean a thing to anybody at all.
Point-hatted scouts saw us and let us through while the sky was still waking. The nerves in my body danced like bugs. Whatever negative providence that’d taken over my life was gone at last. Though the weight remained, perhaps I could let it go with time. I wanted to.
Seeing Suzanne like that, still tired and yawning and even brow furrowed, I stumbled into them and pressed their face to mine, and I told them I’d never let them go and I told them it was over, and Suzanne asked me where the wagon was.
I didn’t have an answer for that and instead buried my nose behind their ear.
All they asked me then was, “Really, it’s over?”
“It’s over. I’m better now. Well—I might not be better, but I will be.”
A fat dog brushed my leg, and it was Trouble—the animal was kept on a lead by Gemma which tugged on the collar just a bit to keep the dog from tangling the lead around our legs. The girl beamed and I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her so genuine as that. Her face was rounded from health.
I pulled Suzanne into another hug and hushed, “My legs are tired now.” We kept our arms around each other; I hoped they didn’t want to let me go just like how I didn’t want to let them go. The only thing that hurt was knowing I’d hurt Suzanne.
It felt ridiculous because it was, but I was an optometrist finally. It wouldn’t be easy, but I saw everything very clearly.
First/Previous
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Hey guys, I’d like to pick your mind on something. I’ll be graduating from a bachelor degree soon however I will still have 6 months remaining on my student visa after finishing my course, the reason why is because I change between programs (Keeping the same educational level) and my current program will finish earlier compared to to the one that I was initially enrolled. Is it any problem with the 485 visa? Will my 485 kick in immediately once I applied or do I need to enroll on other program for the remaining time of my student visa

I applied to Stanford’s Daily Summer Workshops for Journalism, Multimedia and Tech and I got accepted to all three of them. Although I got a partial scholarship, I’d have to pay $1000 for each workshop. I contacted them asking if they could give more financial aid, but they refused. My options are to: 1. Pay the $3000 for all three workshops 2. Pay only $1000 or $2000 for just one or two workshops 3. Not attend
I wanted to participate in the workshop because I wanted to learn about journalism and web development and that it’d look good on my college apps, but the cost is making me hesitant. I also plan to get an internship or job over the summer, which could help offset the cost but I’m not certain if I could secure one.

Let’s be real here. Pearl Jam was one of if not the biggest band from Seattle prior to Kurt Cobain’s death in early 1992 it was Nirvana, but I’d say from late 1992-1994 it was definitely Pearl Jam until Kurt very sadly passed. I feel like a lot of this sub didn’t truly appreciate Soundgarden or STP until Chris Cornell and Scott Weiland passed away. I know it creates a bit of mystery. But some of you straight up dog Pearl Jam when they - along with Soundgarden - were literally the two best bands imo. Alice In Chains and Nirvana are right there too, but the musicianship was on another level and more varied with PJ and SG imo. Jerry Cantrell, Kurt Cobain and the DeLeo brother are still master songwriters, I’m not taking anything away from them. But can we please just appreciate that Pearl Jam has been kicking ass 33 years and counting. I feel like a lot of the PJ haters are going to turn full circle when Eddie passes and say “they were the best”. Just like with Soundgarden, Stone Temple Pilots, Alice In Chains and Nirvana. I’m very appreciate Vedder is still with us as he’s the only one I’ve been able to see because the others all died before I got the chance 💔 R.I.P. to the legends and let Eddie Vedder and PJ in the words of Oasis are gonna live forever! Through their legacy!of course, just like every other band mentioned.

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So I made an incorrect assumption that the interview would not be too technical based on the information I had available to me. I have been preparing and brushing up for interviews but on a more general level and I have a fuckton of personal issues dividing my energy/attention. Like I said I've been out of work a while and things aren't very fresh in my head. But I just got work from the recruiter who talked to the hiring manager said it will get "quite technical."
The job listing is a pretty general one, for I guess a senior-ish level EE (7+ years experience) working in an R&D setting. I just reviewed the job description and it actually lists almost no "technical keywords" like SMPS, Serial Communication, SPI, I2C, signal integrity, high-speed design, wireless communication, you get the idea.
Also two somewhat odd things:

1. The product they made is a tiny wearable that communicates wirelessly. I've only ever designed and built big table top instruments connected to mains with zero wireless communication, but the hiring manager is very interested in me for the job despite me acknowledging this.
2. When he described the actual position to me on the phone he said it will involve a lot of testing, making it sound a lot more like a test engineer position basically which doesn't match the job description really.

I'm really interested in the job but you can see from the above I have little to go on regarding where to concentrate my efforts to prepare.
I think a fairly general review would be the best course of action. Does anyone have a good list or resource of things to cover that's no so long its overwhelming? There was a way too comprehensive list posted here before or people just recommended textbooks. Like I said with the limited time available I think its best to do a quick EE101 overview basically so any list, resource, youtube series, youtube playlist or playlists, or whatever that highlight everything I should cover on a higher level would be great and I can drill down into further detail on topics as needed.
As well as general advice on handling technical portions of interviews.
I will appreciate all suggestions and advice as long as its positive and constructive. Thank you!
Edit: Relevant notes I took down during call with Hiring Manager

• Most of the work is the system integration and testing is the bulk of the effort
• Measuring and sensing currents down to pico amps
• Lots of analog, some digital

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Basically wanted to ask people what their least realistic wishes for the release of SoD phase 4 would be (things you think are highly unlikely to actually happen, but that you want anyway).
Mine personally are:

1. The creation of a series of fresh, new servers for new and/returning players to experience SoD WITHOUT level capped phases staggering out the content.
   
2. The removal of the XP buff when leveling (especially on those fresh servers in 1, but honestly would like it removed on all servers, it's a big part of the reason no one is actually grouping up to level anymore)
   
3. The fixing of incursions to be less grindable somehow (not sure on the specifics, I am not a game designer).
   

Let me know what you guys want for Phase 4's release. Since it's level 60 it feels like this one will be a bigger deal than the last two phase launches (I suspect this is why they're doing the delay and the PTR, because the release of level 60 is a big chance to pull new and returning players back into SoD and they want to stick that landing).