An Ode to Job Hunting
Humbled and honoured to have just been rejected for a role as a dancing chicken
‘Your application has been reviewed, and, unfortunately..’
The death rattle of your motivation ensues. This was application #691 and it’s only mid-February.
You return to waiting tables — filling up Mr. Hedge Fund Manager’s fifth mojito of the afternoon as he clicks his sausage-like fingers at you.
You tell him to stop. Minutes later, the supervisor fires you.
And you’re back on the streets, scrounging for work, having some 21-year-old snot-nosed LinkedIn ‘influencer’ tell you that you need to ’have a positive mindset’ and how he ‘just bought his first house at 18’ as his dad owns the F500 company he works for.
Shut the f*ck up, kid.
Weeks pass. Bills mount up. You finally get an email starting with ‘Congratulations!’
A Nigerian prince has selected you for a cash prize. All you need to do is reply with your bank details.
