Applied to So Many Jobs? The Family Brunch Question

2026-10-15

The question comes between the second croissant and the coffee refill.

"So, any news from the companies?"

Your aunt asks it kindly. She's holding the jam jar and smiling. Around the table, four other people go quiet in that polite way, ready to be encouraging.

You open your mouth and realise you don't know the answer.

Not because there's no news. Because you can't remember who you've even written to.

The answer you didn't have

Let's call you Jule. You've been looking for a new job for about two months. A product designer role here, a UX position there, one at a company whose office you liked the look of on a video. You applied on a Tuesday night. You applied again on a Friday afternoon, standing at the kitchen counter, still in your coat.

Somewhere there's a list. Actually, there are several. A note on your phone. A few browser tabs you never closed. A folder called "Bewerbungen neu" and another called "Bewerbungen neu 2". Half-remembered confirmation emails buried between newsletters and parcel updates.

"A few things are in progress," you say, and reach for your cup.

It's true, and it's also a small lie. You have no idea what's in progress. You only know there's a low hum of waiting somewhere in your chest.

What the hum costs

Nobody warns you that job searching is mostly an admin job. Not the writing, not the interviews. The remembering.

Who did you send the portfolio version to, and who got the short one? Which recruiter said "we'll come back to you next week", and was that last week or the week before? Is the silence from that company a no, or just a slow Monday on their side?

So you do what many people do. You check your inbox more often than you'd admit. You open it in the supermarket queue. You open it in the lift. You feel a small drop when it's only a discount code.

And the quieter cost: you start to feel like you're not good at this. As if everyone else has a tidy system, and you are the one who loses things.

You're not the one who loses things. You're one person doing a job that needs a tool, with only your memory to hold it all.

The call that proved it

Two days after the brunch, your phone buzzes on the bus. Unknown number.

"Hi Jule, it's Katrin. We spoke briefly about the role, I wanted to follow up."

Which role? Which Katrin? You say "Oh, hi, great to hear from you," in the bright voice you keep for moments like this, and your mind sprints through every tab you've ever opened.

She's patient. You get through it. But when you hang up, you're sitting there with your bag on your lap, watching a street you don't see, and a sentence arrives, clear and quiet:

It doesn't have to be like this.

Not a grand realisation. More like noticing you've been carrying a heavy shopping bag the whole way home, and a bench has been right there.

One place for all of it

That evening you don't open a new tab. You sit down with a single page and write each application in one line: company, role, the day you sent it, what happened next. It takes less time than you expected, mostly because the details come back once you're looking at them side by side.

And a funny thing happens. The hum gets quieter.

Not because anything has changed out there. The same companies are silent or slow or still thinking. But now you can see it. Seven waiting, two said no, one interview next Thursday. Each line has a gentle next step, like "nudge on Monday", and a date to do it.

Waiting feels different when it has an edge. A no stops hanging in the air and becomes a finished line. A maybe becomes something you check on Monday, not at 23:00, not in the supermarket queue.

You also notice the other half of the job: preparing. When the interview comes, you're not hunting for a story about a difficult colleague at the last minute. You've already put a few real examples in order, what the situation was, what you did, what came of it. They sit ready, like clothes laid out the night before.

A different brunch

A few weeks later, same aunt, same table, same jam jar.

"So, how's the search going?"

You finish your bite. You're not performing calm; you simply have it.

"Nine applications out. Two conversations, one interview on Thursday. I'm following up with three on Monday."

There's a small pause, and then your uncle says, "That sounds very organised."

It does. And it isn't about being a naturally tidy person. It's that the information finally lives somewhere other than your head. Your head gets to be a head again: thinking about the work you actually want to do, how you'll introduce yourself, what you'd like to ask them.

The search is still uncertain. It always is. But uncertainty and chaos aren't the same thing, and you can feel the difference in your shoulders.

If you recognise yourself

If you've applied to more places than you can name, and you flinch a little when someone asks how it's going, you're not behind. You just have too much floating loose.

The Job Search Tracker & Interview Prep Workbook is an Excel workbook made for this: every application in one place, follow-up reminders, and a question bank with room for your own STAR stories. It's a quiet, practical way to give the waiting a shape. It comes with a 30-day money-back promise, so if it doesn't help, you get a full refund, no questions.

Either way, next time someone asks, I hope you have an answer ready.

An illustrative story, written with AI assistance.