Dear Unemployed Graduate,

You didn’t ask for it, but I’m going to offer you some advice.

Am I licensed therapist, counselor or manicurist? 

No. However I once graduated job-less, up to my eyeballs in debt, and scared to death of the uncertain future. So perhaps my story of unemployed graduation angst will mean something to you.

In early 1997, I was finishing my time at Dartmouth’s Tuck School with an MBA with $80,000 in student loans hanging over my head. That's the 2018 equivalent of, well, I don't know exactly ... but, like, a lot.

All my classmates seemed to have dream jobs in banking, consulting or brand management with eye-popping starting salaries, signing bonuses and even tuition reimbursement. Nature, for better or worse, had determined that I was not-investment banker material (for proof, see my inability to compute the present value of my student loan balance). I also got zero traction with the leading brand management programs or prestigious consulting firms, perhaps because I couldn’t articulate what they do (as if anyone knows).

Good opportunities had popped up here-and-there, but several months into the process I continued to receive recruiters' politely-worded rejection letters, all of which contained the same message: “Get lost, loser!"

I continued to receive recruiters' politely-worded rejection letters, all of which contained the same message: “Get lost, loser!"

In pursuit of some job search catharsis, I edited these memos, adding scatological details highlighting the significant degree of their disinterest in me. I then hung them in the hall outside my room in the house I shared with four classmates.

That spring, my roommates and I hosted a party for several dozen beer-ponging students from other top business schools. At some point, I ran up to my room to grab something (probably a Counting Crows CD) and heard some of our guests laughing at the edited correspondence outside. I was happy they found them funny until I heard one of them say, “These aren’t even from top companies."

I assumed – and remain convinced – that this person was from Wharton.

The gut-punches didn't stop there. Despite my dubious career prospects, I spoke at our graduation, and it went pretty darn well. In attendance was one of my classmate's dads who was the CEO of a big-time CPG corporation. He complimented me on the talk and asked me where I planned to work. I didn't have the heart to tell him that his very company had rejected me just a few weeks prior. (I should have said, "Dude/sir, you should hire me - I love Cincinnati!")

As I'm sure you have guessed, things worked out fine. Not too long after graduation, I found a job announcement in the career center (no HotJobs or CareerBuilder back then) for a company that produced an ad-supported CD-ROM featuring interviews and performances with bands and movies stars. I thought, “Hey, I love music, and everyone knows the CD-ROM is the future of media!” 

I got the job, and it kicked off a great career in the internet business, but one with many stops and starts. Soon after I started, the LAUNCH CD-ROM became LAUNCH.com, a leading music website. The company went public and our stock shot way up. All was well. Until it wasn't. In 2001, the bursting internet bubble blew chunks all over me, my unexercised stock options and my still massive student loans.

Fortunately, Jerry Yang bought us with some coins he found in his sofa cushions, and brought us into the fold at Yahoo!, the leading internet property at the time. I loved working there, paid off my student loans and saved enough money to pursue a long-time dream of doing performing comedy full-time.

Doing stand-up was amazing! I met my comic heroes and got a lot of stage time, but I was brand new, and it takes years (like a decade) to learn the craft. I struggled. One time after I introduced Daniel Tosh, he started his set with “Paul – God bless him, he’s trying.” Ugggh.

One time after I introduced Daniel Tosh, he started his set with “Paul – God bless him, he’s trying.”

Two years into the comedy, having just gotten engaged, it made a lot of sense to pursue a more predictable career path. So I put my tail between my legs and headed back to the corporate world. In May, 2007 I joined the sales team for a small and relatively-unknown social network called Facebook.

I sometimes wish that my first shot at stand-up had gone more smoothly. However, if it had, I wouldn’t have spent four years working, learning and making life-changing money at Facebook. Indeed, if I had been funnier, I’d have a much smaller house.

The house isn't even close to the coolest thing, though. Most satisfying of all, I'm now back chasing that elusive comedy dream...something I never would have guessed when I was just trying to find a job... any job back in 1997.

My point to you today is that your career will bring many ups-and-downs. Your very first professional job search is just the beginning. It is a process - a frustrating and time-consuming process - of figuring out who you are and what you really should be doing with your career. As bad as it might suck, it will pay off. And as hard as it hurts to not get that job you think you want, many of the companies that "reject" you are doing you a huge favor by keeping you out of a culture that is a bad fit for your strengths and personality.

Many of the companies that "reject" you are doing you a huge favor...

The many dozens of interviews I had coming out of business school ranged from very good to very humiliating. They did not get great until I stopped giving canned, dispassionate answers, and started telling people who the hell I was and what I wanted to do with my life.

By the time I got in front of the LAUNCH team, I knew that that was my job and they were the people I wanted to be with. I was telling the me story with clarity and enthusiasm. After meeting with each interviewer I told them, “I want this job, so if you’ve got any reservations about me, I’d like to talk about them with you now.” I think they thought I was crazy, but 21 years later, they’re some of my best friends, in and out of business.

So take heart, young soon-to-be professional! Keep at it, and tell your story. It’s all going to work out….unless you went to Wharton, in which case – get lost!

Paul Ollinger is a nationally-touring stand-up comedian and author of You Should Totally Get an MBA: A Comedian’s Guide to Top U.S. Business Schools. Follow him on Twitter at @Paul_Ollinger