Confessions of a midnight scroller

Where all my midnight scrollers at? Or am I the only one doom-scrolling LinkedIn at 12:03 AM like I’m gonna catch a recruiter sneaking in to post a job titled “We’ll Pay You to Breathe and Occasionally Attend Zoom Meetings.”

Every night I tell myself the same lie:

“I’m just gonna check my messages real quick.”

Next thing I know I’m 18 pages deep in someone’s work anniversary comments wondering if “thrilled to announce” is a requirement for employment.

And why is it that at midnight, the only job posting I see is a Senior Vice President role at a company with a triangle logo, a mysterious mission, and a salary listed as “competitive”—which we all know is recruiter code for “vibes only”?

Then I stumble across the person who wrote:

“Just got laid off this morning. Feeling lost.”

Fifteen minutes later:

“UPDATE: Just accepted a VP role at Apple, met Tim Cook, and we’re doing brunch tomorrow. Thank you, LinkedIn fam!”

Sir. What kind of sorcery. Did you summon an opportunity using three tears, a Canva résumé, and a burnt offering of your old lanyard?

Meanwhile, I’m over here triple-checking my résumé like it’s a sacred scroll.

Font: Calibri.

Tone: Humble yet employable.

Attachments: Existential dread.

I check my notifications. Nothing.

No messages.

No views.

Just LinkedIn telling me to “congratulate Brenda on her new role at Meta.”

No shade to Brenda, but I’ve congratulated her three times this year. She changes jobs like I change Wi-Fi networks.

I refresh the jobs tab.

Now I’m looking at roles in cities I can’t pronounce, considering relocating for a position called “Director of Strategic Ambiguity.”

Requirements: must be available 24/7, love Slack, and be cool with being ghosted after four interviews and a personality test that asked if I cry during Pixar movies.

By now it’s 12:47 AM.

My snack of choice? Air.

My emotional support animal? A crushed throw pillow.

My mental state? One rejection email away from rebranding as a motivational speaker with no credentials.

But then… I remember:

I’m not alone.

There’s a whole army of us—underpaid, overqualified, emotionally unstable—but somehow still believing that the next click, the next message, the next “Let’s chat!” might actually lead somewhere.

So to my fellow late-night job hunters, I say this:

Stay delulu.

Stay hydrated.

Stop editing your headline for the 14th time.

And if your inbox hasn’t blessed you yet?

Just know: your future boss is probably scrolling too.

Right now.

In socks.

With a snack.

Wishing they’d already hired someone just like you.

Now go to bed.

Or don’t.

But either way—refresh one more time.

Just in case.