Open to Work

Picture this: you bravely click that “Open to Work” banner on LinkedIn, feeling a little hopeful, a little terrified, and maybe even a little excited to see what new chapter might come your way.

Then suddenly — BOOM. You’ve apparently triggered a global recruiter bat signal that only you can’t see. It’s like you ordered a single taco on DoorDash and they sent you an entire catering truck.

And not just any recruiters. Oh no. You get a very specific genre: The Mysterious Mass-Calling Recruiter Collective. They start each call with “Hello candidate, I have a very good opportunity for you,” followed by what sounds like a code word for a secret mission. You ask them to send you the job description, and when it finally arrives, you realize it’s for a role you haven’t touched since flip phones were a thing.

“Senior J2EE Developer for a federal agency in Nebraska.”

You: “I haven’t touched J2EE since Bush was in office.”

Them: “Perfect, you are highly qualified.”

What’s worse? The moment you politely decline, it doesn’t stop. Instead, you unlock the sequel: Attack of the Clones. Twenty more recruiters appear in your inbox like you stepped into a Marvel multiverse glitch. Each one offers you the same job, word-for-word, as though they all copied the same ancient scroll and passed it around at midnight.

They don’t check your LinkedIn carefully. They don’t care that your most recent experience is as a product manager, a writer, or a skydiving instructor — if you so much as breathed near a Java book in 2003, congratulations, you’re on every federal contract shortlist until the end of time.

It feels like some cosmic joke. You can practically hear the universe whispering: “How much patience do you really have? Let’s find out.”

And let’s talk about those databases. Because it’s not just LinkedIn. Somewhere in the shadows of the internet, there’s an ancient spreadsheet with your name, your AOL email address from 1999, and a note that says “Open to anything.” It’s like you’re on a lost Ark of Bad Job Matches, and every time you update your profile, an alarm goes off in a dimly lit call center: “We’ve got one!”

The irony? You just wanted to find a role that feels right, a place where you could grow, contribute, and — dare we say — be happy. Instead, you get an accidental VIP pass to the circus of misfit opportunities, starring you as the exhausted ringleader.

So if you’re feeling seen right now, know you’re not alone. We’ve all been there: stuck in an endless Groundhog Day of irrelevant job pitches, rehearsing our polite “no thank you” emails like we’re in a Victorian drama.

But hey — maybe, just maybe, we can laugh about it together. Because in this endless maze of awkward recruiter calls and lost job descriptions, at least we’ve got each other. And humor. And the sweet, sweet mute button.

Stay strong, warriors of the “Open to Work” battlefield. May the right recruiter actually read your profile one day — and may they never ask you to code in J2EE again.