My LinkedIn Update

Dear LinkedIn friends,

It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

I occasionally peek in and see your beautiful posts — the congratulatory balloons for your promotions, the humble brags for your dear colleagues, the applause emojis for your friends doing Important Work. Sometimes I see the position I thought I’d get, posted by a third-level connection — some polished Danish girl whose profile is sprinkled with Congrats, dear! comments from all her shiny contacts.

And of course, I see your thought pieces. The deep, inquisitive posts from those of you who just flew back from a global summit where you networked, shook hands, took blurry photos, then bled out some know-it-all, passive-aggressive, corporate hogwash. The kind of stiff, polished language that says Look at me, I know things, promote me, hire me, please.

Anyway — breathe.

I really do hope you’re well. Truly. Because I’m doing great. So, so great.

Most days.

But here’s the thing: I can’t quite figure out how to release that LinkedIn hormone that makes you gush your fake Love this! comments and auto-like that “groundbreaking new framework” you didn’t read. I feel it though — that sticky fluid bubbling up in my gut, begging me to type What an amazing initiative! or Huge congrats on this milestone! or Love this report — you all worked so hard!

It’s there. But so is the other chemical — the anti-bullshit compound that started pumping through me when I realized my religion was built on half-lies and got sharpened by the boludos here in Argentina who don’t let me sugarcoat a damn thing.

That anti-bullshit surge short-circuits the LinkedIn script. It makes me write this instead of that safe little comment that makes me look more “professional.”

Because honestly? Sometimes I open LinkedIn and want to scream: Look at all of you! Perfect suits, perfect statements, perfect fake vulnerability about “lessons learned” from your overpriced workshop. None of you mean half the shit you post, and we all know it, but we keep pretending this is how you climb the ladder while secretly clawing at each other’s ankles behind the scenes. Fucking congrats.

Oh right — my career update. Almost forgot.

1. I’m still consulting. For now. The money’s thinning out. Trump is doing a fine job swinging a hatchet at this bloated international aid machine. Some of the work deserved the cut — yeah, some of it is empty bureaucracy dressed up as impact. But the honest programs? They’re bleeding too. Friends are losing jobs. Kids are losing services. That’s the part that keeps me up.

2. I just want to fucking write. Really write. Finish and publish my memoir. Continue crafting my odd, dystopian book about mercury, reincarnation and yogi powers. Sell it. Shape it. And yeah — bullshit my way through the parts I hate because if I want people to read it, I have to sell myself, too.

3. I’m launching a small company. It’s fun. I get to pick my team, my branding, my business plan, my schedule — but not my clients. If we want to grow, I’ll have to play the game. More handshakes, more performative posts, more pretending. Ugh.

4. Deep in my gut, I still want that next big international gig. The job that screams Look, Dad, I did it. The grown-up UN title that quiets the career demon that wonders what the hell really happened with Finland - being told I was the top candidate, then silence while the politics played out behind closed doors. Singapore? Gone. Qatar? Same thing. Maybe I want it. Maybe I don’t. Maybe I want success but not the version that eats you alive just to wear a bigger badge.

   
   

So that’s my update. Maybe writing this is my rebellion — my gut giving LinkedIn the middle finger for one small minute. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just honesty, here, buried between your balloons and acronyms.

Either way — I’m here. Still writing. Still watching. Still me.