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Layered Rock Pattern

Open To Work

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To everyone out there currently rocking that fresh “Open to Work” green banner like it’s a new fashion statement — this one’s for you.


Because let’s be honest: no one dreams of waking up one day, scrolling LinkedIn with one eye open, and seeing the words “Role eliminated” flash across your inbox. It’s like the corporate version of “It’s not you, it’s me,” except with fewer tears and way more severance paperwork.


You go from “valued team member” to “please return your laptop by 5 p.m.” faster than you can say “Do we still get the leftover snacks in the break room?”


Suddenly, you find yourself panic-Googling things like:

— “What to write on LinkedIn so I don’t sound desperate.”

— “How many times is too many to update my headline in one week?”

— “Do I really need to learn Excel? Like… really?”


The first week? Feels like a weird vacation. You eat lunch at normal hours. You rediscover sunlight. You finally figure out where your dog likes to nap all day.


Week two? You start organizing the spice rack alphabetically and consider selling handmade candles on Etsy called “Corporate Tears” and “Smells Like Severance.”


By week three, you’re deeply invested in a YouTube channel about a guy who lives in the woods and talks to squirrels. You’re convinced you could start a mushroom farm or move to Portugal and open a surf shack even though you can’t swim.


But here’s the emotional part nobody talks about: you’re grieving. Not just the job, but the identity, the tiny rituals, the “good mornings” from that one coworker who always had a donut. You’re grieving the version of you that thought loyalty was bulletproof and that good work would always be enough.


It’s okay to miss it. It’s okay to be mad. It’s okay to eat ice cream at 9 a.m. and tell your plants all your fears.


But here’s the plot twist: you’re not starting from zero. You’re starting from every skill, every meltdown you survived, every fire drill you put out at 4:59 on a Friday. You’re starting from all the ways you kept going when everything felt impossible.


You’re not just “open to work.” You’re open to becoming. Open to rediscovering what you want, what makes you laugh, what makes you feel alive again.


So yes, wear that green banner proudly. Wear it like a weird superhero cape. Because underneath it is someone who got knocked over and still had the nerve to get back up and say, “Alright, what’s next?”


You are not just a layoff story. You’re not a cautionary tale for budget cuts. You are a full, messy, unstoppable human with more chapters left than any spreadsheet can measure.


So if no one told you today:

You’re hilarious.

You’re resilient.

You’re exactly where you need to be — even if that place feels weird and terrifying right now.


Keep going. We’re all cheering for you from our makeshift home offices (and probably in our pajama pants).


You’ve got this, legends. Let’s make “Open to Work” the hottest trend no one asked for.

 
 
 

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