I dreamed I was Gandalf

Last night, my subconscious decided to hand me a staff, a pointy hat, and the responsibility of guiding Middle-earth through its darkest hour. Yes, friends, I dreamed I was Gandalf. And let me tell you—if anyone thought the battle against Sauron was intense, you clearly haven’t tried finding parking as Gandalf in downtown Chicago. Nothing screams “fallen wizard” quite like parallel parking a horse named Shadowfax between two Teslas while someone in a hoodie mutters, “Nice cosplay, bro.”

The dream began with me striding into the job market like it was Mordor. Every recruiter I met looked suspiciously like an orc. Their questions were riddles, their portals endless mazes, and every “Apply Here” button felt like another cursed Ring of Power—promising opportunity, delivering only rejection. At one point, I swear the ATS system whispered: “You shall not pass!” And like any true wizard, I yelled back: “Neither shall you, bot!” before my résumé caught fire for no apparent reason.

Somewhere between Indeed and LinkedIn, I ended up leading a fellowship. Not elves and dwarves, mind you—just exhausted job seekers. Brenda from HR was there, carrying a stapler like it was the sword Andúril. Earl showed up with a coffee pot he swore was magical (it just sputtered at random intervals). And Brad the Mouse? Of course, he was there, wielding a piece of cheese as if it were the One Ring itself. Our mission? To march bravely past auto-rejections, destroy ghosting forever, and deliver at least one interview that didn’t begin with “So tell me about yourself.”

Naturally, the bots attacked first. They swarmed us in hordes, pixelated and soulless, demanding keywords and cover letters. One asked me to “describe a time I led a cross-functional team.” I told it, “When I led a company through a reorg so catastrophic, even Saruman would’ve said, ‘Yikes.’” Another asked for “five strengths and weaknesses.” I responded: “Strengths—leadership, resilience, pizza ordering under pressure. Weaknesses—patience for nonsense, patience for nonsense, patience for nonsense, patience for nonsense, and… parallel parking Shadowfax.” The bot short-circuited on the spot.

But as Gandalf, I wasn’t just witty—I was dramatic. Whenever a recruiter ghosted me, I’d climb a mountain, hold my staff to the sky, and shout: “Fly, you fools!” Every rejection email became a scroll sealed with dark magic, every Zoom interview a Council of Elrond where the Wi-Fi always cut out at the most dramatic moment. And when the system tried to swallow us whole with endless portals? I slammed my staff down and roared: “You shall not pass… unless you at least offer dental coverage!”

Eventually, just as we reached the gates of HR’s mighty fortress, I woke up. No job offer, no victory speech, not even a free LaCroix from the company fridge. Just me, blinking at my ceiling, realizing that in real life, I don’t have a staff—only sarcasm and Wi-Fi. But maybe that’s enough.

So here’s today’s lesson, my employed and unemployed legends: even if the bots try to stop you, even if the gates of corporate Mordor slam shut in your face, keep swinging that imaginary staff. Be bold, be funny, and remember—sometimes the most powerful magic in this market isn’t a résumé keyword. It’s refusing to lose your humor while the world insists you take it all too seriously.

Because in the end, legends, we are all Gandalf. And this week, whether you’re sending résumés, dodging rejections, or parallel parking in Mordor, never forget: the job hunt may be dark and full of terrors, but the wizard within you still rises.