Still Hoping

Everyone keeps saying, “Stay positive, your dream job is out there.”

And I’m like,

Cool. Can I at least get a second interview while we wait for the dream?

Because let me tell you—this job search?

It’s not a journey.

It’s not a season.

It’s a full-blown emotional crime documentary, and I’m the main character trying to solve my own disappearance from the workforce.

My current strategy is what I call the “Spray and Pray” technique:

– Apply to 31 jobs before breakfast

– Regret at least 27 by lunch

– Rework my resume for the 400th time like I’m submitting it for Oscar consideration

– Whisper “maybe this one’s different” like I’m in a long-term toxic relationship with LinkedIn

– Get ghosted faster than a bad date who said “I’m really into deep conversations” and then vanished after coffee

Rejection emails?

I could teach a class on them.

I once got one that said “Congratulations!”

Scroll down… “Unfortunately, we’ve chosen another candidate.”

I didn’t know you could get gaslit by a subject line.

Another company rejected me three separate times. For the same job.

I wasn’t even applying anymore. They just wanted to make sure I knew they still didn’t want me.

It was like the HR version of an ex texting “just to make sure we’re still broken up.”

And the job descriptions?

Insane.

They want a “self-starting visionary who thrives in fast-paced chaos and can wear 16 hats while doing data analysis, leading a team, managing three continents, coding in Python, and occasionally making cold brew for the office.”

Pay? $46,000.

Location? 3 cities simultaneously.

Experience? Must be 23 years old with 20 years of experience.

Cool cool cool.

And yet—I still show up.

I still rewrite my cover letters like they’re scenes from a redemption movie.

I still try to sound “young and dynamic” without accidentally deleting all my actual value.

Why?

Because deep down, I still believe there’s a company out there that values real-world wisdom.

One that doesn’t get scared when they see “20+ years of experience.”

One that doesn’t assume I peaked in 2009 just because I’m not fluent in Gen Z memes and Slack emojis.

So yeah—I’ll keep applying.

Keep rewriting.

Keep refreshing my inbox like it owes me money.

Because I know this isn’t the end.

It’s just the messy, awkward, laugh-or-cry part of the story.

And when the right door opens?

I’ll walk in fully myself—unfiltered, overqualified, a little unhinged—but still hopeful.