I wrote a LinkedIn post.
I feel dirty. I’m a writer. I value words. I value meaning. I value connection. LinkedIn is devoid of all that.
The LinkedIn style is short sentences, toxic positivity, endless and unexpected life and career lessons, relentless brand building. Personality is discouraged. Paragraphs of more than a sentence or two are anathema.
I’m writing this in the LinkedIn style. Dammit.
My point is — I’m unemployed. I’m looking for a job. LinkedIn is, I suppose, a necessary evil in that search.
And I hate everything about it. There’s no humanity there, and it is incredibly discouraging. I feel a bit like Carson on Downton Abbey, standing against Armageddon.
It sucks.
Still, as my dad would say, we press on.
For the record, here’s that post.
Two job applications.
Two rejections outside of normal business hours.
Two completely different feelings.
The first. An email, Saturday evening. Applied in mid-November.
Apologetic for having made me wait. Honest about the process and the number of applicants.
Human.
The second. An email. 5 o’clock this morning. Applied last night.
“We’ve carefully reviewed all the applications, and we’ve decided to move forward with other candidates whose experience more closely aligns with what we’re looking for.” “We wish you the very best in your professional journey.”
Form letter. With the short turnaround time and the pre-dawn email, I harbor serious doubts human eyes were ever part of that “careful review.”
Machine.
The first rejection started a conversation. I emailed back, admitted my disappointment — I would have loved that job, I’d have been a goddamn nerd every day — and mentioned a few areas where I could still help them. They replied that night, and some freelance work might come of it in the future.
The second rejection slammed a door. I don’t know why I was rejected — the position needed both marketing know-how and pop-culture knowledge — nor can I find out what they were really looking for or how I could improve my profile for the future. There’s nowhere to go with this, nor anything to take from it. I almost think I’d rather have been ghosted; why bother applying for a job when you’ll be rejected in less than eight hours with a form letter that wouldn’t pass a Voight-Kampff Test?
Sometimes I think the dolphins had the right idea. “So long and thanks for all the fish.”