Search icon

LOL

14th Jun 2016

The 5 emotional stages of setting up a LinkedIn profile

Ciara Knight

LinkedIn is a lot to TakeIn.

Like most people, I set up my LinkedIn account so I could endorse my friends for stupid things such as ‘being a bitch’ and ‘shifting upwards of 3 people on a night out’.

Upon creating my account, I’ve learned that it’s actually not a great social network for those that are fond of divilment. If anything, it’s an emotional roller coaster.

Hence, I present, the five emotional stages of setting up a LinkedIn profile.

STAGE 1: Optimism

Cropped portrait of a young businesswoman at work

This is it. You’re taking charge of your incredibly mediocre life. Nothing can drag you down. Twitter and Facebook can get lost, you’re going to upgrade to a more career-oriented means of social networking. It’s only a matter of time before Mark Zuckerberg stumbles across your profile and headhunts you for a very senior (and well paid) role on his team. Might as well start your autobiography with “So I set up a LinkedIn profile…”, because this is where it all starts. You’ll look back on this day and be thankful that you had fuck all else to do.

 

STAGE 2: Concern

Shot of a beautiful young woman wearing glasses and typing on her laptop at homehttp://195.154.178.81/DATA/i_collage/pi/shoots/783397.jpg

As you begin to pad out your new LinkedIn profile, a wave of concern begins to flood your thoughts. There’s an awful lot of empty space in the ‘Experience’ section. You berate yourself for spending your summers drinking cans in a field rather than volunteering to build schools for underprivileged children in Africa. You are scum. Nobody is going to endorse you because your only skill is being able to tell if the television volume is on an even number or a multiple of five. Sake.

 

STAGE 3: Intrigue

Cropped shot of a beautiful young businesswoman sitting in her officehttp://195.154.178.81/DATA/i_collage/pu/shoots/804645.jpg

Maybe it’d be worthwhile having a quick nose around to see what everyone else has on their profiles. There’s no harm in seeing how they’ve laid things out. It’s not stealing, just inspiration. Oh, Sarah from college has detailed every single module on the course. That’s impressive. Slightly less impressive given that she showed up for roughly two classes a week, but that’s none of your business. Brian from primary school has set up his own neurosurgery practice. Brian’s Brains. Classic.

 

STAGE 4: RealisationHandsome businessman working with laptop in office

Look, this isn’t Facebook. You’re not going to announce your engagement for the sake of 250 likes, nobody is going to tag you in a photo where you’re rolling around in muck at a festival and it’s very unlikely that you’re going to be catfished. Pick a profile photo that looks somewhat respectable, crop the alcohol out of frame and move on with your life. Mark Zuckerberg has other important things to do, he doesn’t care that your old babysitter has endorsed you for typing.

 

STAGE 5: Defeat

Cropped shot of a handsome man using his laptop while sitting on the living room sofahttp://195.154.178.81/DATA/i_collage/pu/shoots/804607.jpg

Amazingly, you’ve spent six days perfecting your LinkedIn profile only to find that it has been viewed by three nosy school friends and an anonymous creep. Nobody has contacted you with the job offer of a lifetime and they absolutely never will. You might as well just print out your CV and throw it directly into the recycling bin. Leave your profile floating around cyberspace until the end of time because trying to figure out how to delete your account is simply more trouble than it’s worth. Go forth and explore the world. Amen.