The Day I Become Unstoppable

Have you ever sworn that tomorrow would be the day you finally turn your life around? You go to bed at 2 a.m. (after watching conspiracy theory videos about why your favorite cereal is actually salad), and you whisper to yourself: “Tomorrow, I become unstoppable.”

You imagine yourself waking up at sunrise, making a green smoothie, updating your résumé, writing a Pulitzer-worthy cover letter, doing a 90-minute yoga flow, and learning Italian before lunch. Maybe even solving world peace in between emails.

Then tomorrow comes. You open one eye, realize it’s 1:47 p.m., and you’re still in pajamas that haven’t seen daylight since 2022. You’ve watched 17 TikToks on how to fold your towels “like a five-star resort,” and you seriously consider starting a side hustle selling artisanal ice cubes.

Your résumé? Oh, that. You’ve glanced at it approximately 67 times today, but somehow, it remains untouched, like an ancient relic in a museum. Meanwhile, you’ve refreshed your email inbox so often you might qualify as a professional “Inbox Refresh Specialist.” You even start to wonder if you should add that to your LinkedIn profile, right under “Strategic Thinker” and “Team Player.”

Every new email notification feels like it might be The One. The magical, elusive “We’d like to move forward” email that will change your life and finally let you retire your pajama pants. You click it, heart pounding, only to find a spam email offering 20% off protein powder or, worse, the classic: “We appreciate your interest, but we’ve decided to move forward with other candidates.”

You start thinking that maybe the company didn’t ghost you — they just faked their own disappearance and moved to a remote island to avoid telling you “no.” You picture the hiring team sunbathing on a beach, laughing at your carefully crafted follow-up emails.

On LinkedIn, everyone is “thrilled to announce” something. You’re genuinely happy for them, of course. But also, you’re suspicious. How did they do it? Did they solve a riddle at dawn? Find a golden ticket? Sell their soul to the algorithm?

In between existential spirals, you try to stay positive. You read motivational posts about “trusting the process.” You close your eyes and imagine your future self at a real office, awkwardly laughing at jokes in the break room, proudly wearing a badge photo that doesn’t look like a mugshot.

Then you open your eyes. Your cat is giving you side-eye. Your plant is now your only direct report. Your snack-to-meal ratio is deeply concerning.

And yet, you keep going. You keep applying. You keep rewriting that “About Me” section until it sounds like you’re introducing yourself on a reality show. You keep believing that one day, you’ll finally write that “I’m thrilled to announce…” post for real.

Because you will. One day, you’ll get that “Congratulations” email. You’ll put on real pants, meet actual humans, and complain about the office printer like a true professional.

Until then, here’s to us — the pajama warriors, the inbox refresh champions, the future badge-photo legends. We’ll get there. And when we do, we’ll laugh about these weird, snack-filled afternoons and almost miss them.

See you in the break room — eventually.