Do you know what it’s like to be unemployed for almost two years? I hope not. It chews up your self worth. Wears down your emotions. Exhausts you from the moment you wake. No matter how many times you reformulate your resume, nobody reads it. Nobody’s seriously hiring, anyhow. It’s all a pantomime for nefarious, business-logic reasons.

I wish this were my first trip to the Shitshow Rodeo. It isn’t. I endured something similar — yet oddly milder — during the Dot-Com Bust. One of my book-in-progress, Dot-God-Damn, covers those experiences. Today, I’ll talk about my current experience.

For months now, I’ve labored on writing, creative products, and the paperwork surrounding all that. Since nobody wanted to hire me, I needed to reinvent myself. But making anything resembling a living off creative projects takes time. People need to find your work, connect with it, and spread the word. I can only work so fast. So I worry that I’ll hit my financial “point of no return” before success.

Then I asked a friend if his employer had vacancies I might match. I’ve tried referrals before with no luck. This time, however, seems different. In total, I’ve completed nine video interview questions, three take-home assignments, and two interviews.

And we’re still not done.

Based on everything I’ve experienced since 2022, I feel like the whole situation could still fall apart. I’ve jumped through similar hoops with other employers, only to have them change jobs from “remote” to “on-site wherever you aren’t” in a breath. Or they disappear and hire nobody at all. Ever notice a job listing which reappears month after month? Those are “ghost jobs,” and CNBC did a lovely piece about them.

As I mentioned, American hiring is now a comical pantomime. Trust gets you nowhere. Despair and apathy feel safer. Disappointment starts with expecting something good to happen. If you don’t believe something good will ever happen, you can’t be disappointed. Or happy. Happiness is a luxury unemployed techies forgo in 2025.

However… on the off chance that I might actually land this job, I need to plan ahead. This post contains said plan, albeit a skeletal one.

First, I will continue with my creative projects. The pacing and the release schedule for things may shift, but my commitment remains unshaken. I want to create things for me, not a manager. I want to build something for myself, not an employer. And I want to share the things I create with all of you. Maybe, some distant day in the future, making stuff could become my day job. I sure hope so.

Second, I’m going to push Legalzoom to hurry up with my LLC paperwork. They exist in a constant state of confusion that resembles a closed loop. Today’s battle involved them not recognizing a street address as a street address. It’s infuriating. I’ve already wasted hours on the phone with them. I can’t juggle a full-time job, creating stuff, and nannying a legal service. They need to reach the finish line ASAP or make way for someone who can.

And last, I intend to keep promoting stuff as I work. Thank you all for watching this space. You haven’t seen my work yet. Some of it is really freakin’ close to the finish line. But I want to make the best possible impression with my initial release. Quality takes time and focus.

I think of the modern job market like a river. When the salmon jump, the bears fatten and life is good. But salmon migration only happens once a year over a narrow timespan. If the bears miss their meal, they may not survive the winter. Fat bears hibernate. Skinny bears starve.

The second quarter of each year represents my salmon run. Budgets refill. Managers execute hiring plans. If this bear doesn’t nab a fish before season’s end, I’ll look mighty skinny come summer — a good look for swimsuits, but a lousy one for bank accounts.

Skinny or fat, I’ll keep creating stuff. That sustains hope. And living without hope sucks. Take my word for it. I’ve been doing it for two years.