Sorry, Karen

A while back, I had a four-panel interview. You know the type — four people, one after the other, all asking the same five questions but with slightly different phrasing and varying levels of soul behind their eyes.

The recruiter’s name was Linda. Let me say that again — Linda. Lovely, professional, responsive.

But in my brain?

Her name was Karen.

Not because she acted like a Karen — oh no, Linda was actually kind and organized — but because I had already mentally cast every recruiter in my job search saga as “Karen” due to the sheer volume of ghosting, last-minute cancellations, and LinkedIn messages that read like AI-generated breakup texts.

So here we are. I’ve been chronicling the “Corporate Hunger Games” for months. I’ve built an emotional support raccoon named Greg. I’ve renamed every hiring manager “Chad,” and every passive-aggressive rejection email has been stamped with the signature of Karen from HR.

And then I met actual Linda.

And I, being the polished, competent professional that I am… accidentally called her “Karen.” Not once. Not twice. But three times. In the same conversation.

“Thanks so much for setting this up, Karen.”

“I really appreciate the transparency, Karen.”

“You’ve been so great through this whole process, Karen.”

Her name is Linda.

And bless her soul — she never corrected me. She just powered through like a true warrior, probably thinking, “This poor man has been through too much. Let him call me Karen if it helps him heal.”

Meanwhile, I didn’t even notice. Not until I got an email later:

“Hi Alex,

Following up on our conversation earlier today. It was lovely speaking with you.

– Linda”

That was the moment my soul left my body.

I reread the email five times. “LINDA.” LINDA. LINDA. I had called her Karen repeatedly. I had gaslit myself. I had casually renamed a living, breathing human being like I was casting a community theater production of Corporate Trauma: The Musical.

Now here’s the kicker — I didn’t get the job.

Was it because of the name thing? Probably not. But did I spiral for a full 48 hours replaying every “Thanks, Karen!” moment in my head like a blooper reel from an HR training video?

Absolutely.

Let this be a lesson to all of us navigating the wild jungle of modern job searching: hydrate, get some sleep, and for the love of LinkedIn… write names down.

Also — to Linda, if you’re reading this: I’m so sorry. You deserved better. You deserved your name.

And Karen? Wherever you are, I hope you’re enjoying your reign as the face of every job search breakdown in America.

Godspeed.