Hello and Welcome to my corner of the internet!
I suppose I should start by introducing myself and this blog to you. Sure, you can read the words I wrote in About (I spent a lot of time working on that), but you’re here right now and why would we leave this page for another?
Besides, reusing content is lazy. If you want to know how I described myself and this blog to the world, then you can read About for yourself and save us both some time. No, you’re here because you decided you wanted to read what I have to say this week.
In brief, I started writing on LinkedIn after being laid off from my job in December. One month in, I decided I would post twice a week on LinkedIn and then promptly made one post and stopped writing on LinkedIn. My heart wasn’t in it and I found the manufactured positivity stifling. I didn’t want to write about my “journey” and make meaning out of it for engagement. The job market is tough right now and I have faced and will continue to face rejection from applications. I don’t want to write about what I learned doing this or that interview or application. Worst of all, I do not want to act like I am happy to be rejected.
No one is happy to be rejected. But at the same time, I do not want to wallow in despair. Although I knew vaguely of the subreddit r/RecruitingHell before I was laid off, I started to read the posts more once December rolled around. Some of them are pithy and enjoyable, but the more I scrolled the easier I found it to be miserable. It’s easier to wallow and say, “see! It’s not my fault. The market sucks and it’s the recruiters/companies to blame!” It’s an intoxicating idea, but it is as untrue as the manufactured positivity I felt forced to engage in on LinkedIn.
The truth? Some recruiters and companies are to blame. And, I did learn things from some of the applications and all of the interviews that I have had. But each of those narratives is incomplete and ignores other facets of reality. There is reason to hope and reason to despair. Why should I have to choose just one?
Answer: Engagement.
A succinct narrative that makes sense of the disparate events in our lives and in the world is algorithmic gold. It’s why populists can gain mass followings for focusing the blame on one thing rather than pointing to the systemic issues that underpin our current reality. It’s why religiosity increases during times of turmoil and why conspiracy theories gain traction. We crave a simple story that explains what is wrong in the world and offers us the chance to feel something.
I like simple, single stories. I like thinking that losing my job and being rejected by all these companies I applied to has some greater meaning. The story of losing my dream job at no fault of my own and struggling through adversity to find a new career to ignite a passion within me and, as one friend said, “find something better that will help [me] grow as a leader and a person” is an intoxicating one. But, that narrative ignores and erases so much to tell the simple, single story.
Where are the underpinnings in this story? Where are the facts that led to my position being eliminated due to budget cuts? Where is the support of my friends, family, and coworkers? Where is the commiseration? Where are the days where, instead of feeling hope or despair, I simply existed?
I get that we have to leave these details out of our stories. We have to package them up so they are soothing to the palette and please the audience. But I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to be a “thought leader” or a micro-influencer. I want to be me and all of the complexity that that entails.
That is why I am starting this blog. I want to write authentically and collect my thoughts, dreams, and ideas without regard to the algorithm and the hits of dopamine that that entails.
So here is my promise to you, dear reader:
This website shall be composed of what I want to write and post, rather than what I think I should post or say. There may be posts relating to the popular thing of the week, for I am only human and I too enjoy the popular thing of the week. But, if I write about Taylor Swift for three weeks and then ignore the next big thing she did, then that’s because I wanted to.
If you choose to continue reading my work, just know that there will be no niche. This is not a travel blog, a Taylor Swift fansite, amateur journalism, or anything else. It is a Portlander sitting down and writing something each week to put on the internet in the hope that the words are right.
From time to time, these articles will have an unrelated housekeeping section. There may be tangents that I cut from the article for whatever reason that I, for whatever reason, still want to share.
And, for god’s sake, I will not be using generative AI to create articles. I enjoy using AI and have spent a lot of time tinkering with ChatGPT, but it’s not an author. It is a tool, but what it generates is a simulacrum of the kind of writing that moves people. I may write about it more (I have had a lot of fun exploring the new Custom GPT’s and it is important to know in order to stay competitive), but it won’t write these articles.
cut because it doesn’t fit the article
While this website is meant for me to write what I want to write, it is also an exercise in writing consistently. Even if I am uninspired, I will post something every Sunday (at least for the foreseeable future) because why else would I have spent all this time putting this project together just to abandon it? Yes, it’s the sunk cost fallacy.
When I set about deciding how I wanted to organize this website, I knew that I need to start with consistency in posting. If the goal is to write more consistently, then I need a target to aim myself at. But, goals need to be realistic. I haven’t done something like this before and, as much as I admire the idea of daily or thrice weekly postings, I don’t yet know if that will be sustainable for me. Once a week is more manageable.
From there, I needed to choose a day to update each week. For this, I reflected on my collegiate deadlines. While I could perform for classes with due dates on Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays, my favorite due date was Sundays. Sunday is either the beginning or the end of the week, depending on your perspective. It is, to most mainstream Christians, the day of rest. But, to Jews and Seventh Day Sabbatarians, it is the day after the day of rest. (This is a broad generalization, I know. It’s actually very complicated. If you’re upset with this, click here for more details) For my workflow, there is something exciting about a Sunday. When I worked weekends, it was my Friday and, after taking a nap when the cleaning was done, a height of my productivity. When I worked a normal Monday-Friday, Sundays were my day. On Saturdays, I would vegetate from the realities of the week. I would then use Sundays to indulge in hobbies, do my home chores, and do what I wanted.
When I worked six-day weeks, Friday evening to Saturday morning was for vegetating and the rest of Saturday was for preparing. Except when I worked seven-day weeks, then it was any moment I could spare on Saturday was for vegetating.
Hide Side-noteBecause of the habit of due dates, the quantum nature of which day Sunday is, and my old habits relating to this day, Sunday was a natural choice for me. However, I also do not want to be constrained by Sundays. Take last week, for example. If I posted my Sunday article and had to wait until today, then I might no longer enough care about Taylor Swift’s announcement at the Grammy’s to write about it. When something happens that I want to write about, then I will write about it and post it. These off-schedule articles are a bonus and there will still be a Sunday article.
Let me know your thoughts in the comments below. Thanks for reading!
One response to “Introducing: One Day I Will Find”
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