Pretty In Pink... Perfect In Paisley!

 Maybe if I sit here long enough and stare at this blank page, 2.5 years of some form of emotion will blurt out something meaningful. Right? Isn't that how it works? You stuff every emotion or feeling so life doesn't smack you hard in the face, and then you're faced with redness that no one understands but you! Right? Isn't this how it goes? Where is the logic in any of it? Human nature and the many complexities of human facets, widgets, gadgets, and emotion! All gears of some mechanism that compound human design. I used to be here for it. Now I question it all. And I question motives, time, and design, and really, what did any of it mean? Other than to take up space and disrupt someone's life. Cmon like, really, why? Melancholy, I find myself, right now, very melancholy. It's the change of weather. It's limerence. It's anger. It's disappointment. It's delusion. It's defeat! Blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh . I'll say it once. I'll say it...

My search for a job has become something much bigger than looking for a paycheck. It started with an experience I call the “pretty doctor” moment—a situation that made me stop and think about how quickly we decide whether someone belongs in a particular environment. Since then, every interview, every job description, and every conversation about work has made me question what employers are actually looking for. I have more than thirty years of experience in client relations, guest experience, scheduling, events, communication, coordination, and hospitality. I know what I bring to a business. Yet I keep encountering positions that seem to place all of that experience into the same $16–$18-an-hour bucket. At some point, I had to stop asking, “How do I convince them to hire me?” and start asking, “Is this actually an environment where I belong?” I have also come to realize that the labor market isn't simply about whether jobs exist or whether people are willing to work. There is a mat...