A Headhunter’s Offer (And Chicken Exit for the Soul)

Good morning Dr. Fightmaster. My name is XXXXX, the provider recruiter for Napa County. I wanted to connect to see if you’d be interested in a position. Please give me a call/text back to discuss.

One week ago, I reflexively snoozed my alarm but before my pillow fused back to my head, this message snared me. I opened the text and scanned with interest. Unlike previous headhunter inquires—customarily deleted on receipt—a small, definitely still there, part of me perked at permanent employment’s salvation. The text registered with my complacent—willing to settle and sell out—part that aches for easy. The text was a piping cup of tea after six months in the wilderness. The text was an urgent call from comfort.

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