Your soul and rejection

Ever feel like your soul leaves your body every time you get a rejection from Kayla?

Yeah. I do.

Like, one second I’m sipping lukewarm coffee, vibing to lo-fi beats, convincing myself this is the one—this is the job that’ll finally break the curse. The resume was perfect. The cover letter had emotional arcs. I even resisted the urge to use phrases like “rockstar” or “ninja” because I’m trying to heal, professionally.

Then I get the email.

“Hi Alex,

Thank you so much for your interest in this opportunity. After careful consideration, we’ve decided to move forward with other candidates.”

Suddenly I feel it—my soul slowly detaching like it’s clocking out for the day.

It hovers above my body like,

“Bro, I can’t keep doing this. She said you were a top candidate. She smiled during the Zoom. She asked about your hobbies. She even nodded during your story about leading a team through budget cuts and a surprise raccoon infestation. This betrayal? Spiritual.”

Meanwhile, I’m staring at the email like it’s an M. Night Shyamalan twist.

Other candidates? What other candidates, Kayla? Was this Squid Game and I missed the red light?

I call my best friend.

“Kayla ghosted me.”

He’s silent for a second and then says, “Again? I thought we blocked her.”

We did. But rejection finds a way.

Like a LinkedIn Terminator with a yoga certification and a ring light.

I try to walk it off. I go outside.

A squirrel makes eye contact with me and I swear he whispers, “You weren’t a culture fit.”

The betrayal is everywhere.

Later that night, I run into my mom on FaceTime.

She says, “Maybe it’s time to go back to school.”

I say, “Mom, I have three degrees.”

She blinks. “Maybe one more?”

Even Netflix won’t comfort me. Every show feels like a metaphor for my job search.

“Alone.”

“Lost.”

“The Umbrella Academy” (which I don’t understand, but somehow feels emotionally accurate).

Eventually I go to sleep. I dream I’m in an interview—Kayla’s there, of course.

She’s on a throne made of rejection emails and failed background checks.

She says, “We loved your energy… but we went with someone who knows Canva.”

I scream. My soul screams louder.

And when I wake up?

There’s another email.

Different company.

Different Kayla.

Same soul-snatching line:

“We’ve decided to go in a different direction.”

Cool cool cool.

I guess I’ll just keep applying.

Because even if Kayla steals my soul, at least I’ve got unlimited Gmail storage and a dream.