![i am the nightmare in the dark i am the nightmare in the dark](https://media.kidadl.com/small_605a1d46df45fa7eb3d877cc_100_best_nightmare_quotes_to_drive_bad_dreams_away_13902767e2.jpeg)
Do I think that building a resumé or keeping track of extracurricular activities and volunteer work is important? Absolutely! The difference, however, in my experience with LinkedIn, is that I see it as a ticking time bomb.
![i am the nightmare in the dark i am the nightmare in the dark](https://cdn.wionews.com/sites/default/files/styles/story_page/public/2020/12/06/172734-the-nightmare.jpg)
LinkedIn is not necessary for high school kids. I’d tell them to stop basing the value of their accomplishments on other people’s, but that would be hypocritical of me because it’s exactly what I do. I know that if they’re anything like me, they’re starting to spiral down a road of comparing themselves to older students, never mind the fact that we’ve got at least a year or two on them. It’s come to the point that I’ve gotten notifications from students in the grades below me asking to connect. Creating a LinkedIn account was a coming-of-age ceremony, like when you buy a girl her first Kate Spade bag and say “Hurrah, you’re a woman now.”
![i am the nightmare in the dark i am the nightmare in the dark](http://www.legeekretrogaming.com/geekblog/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/nitd-ff-legeek.jpg)
I was always told that LinkedIn was a need, not a want like Instagram or a time-wasting spiral of doom like Twitter. I dread the moment that I’ll accidentally tab over to my feed and see all the stories of triumph from my much more talented, experienced, and educated connections. I’m not even in college yet.īut here I am, spending hour after hour scrolling through the jobs page. I’m a senior, which you’d think is close enough, but only out of high school. It’s not that I’m even qualified for most of the jobs that interest me - most requiring at least a bachelor’s degree. I go on a connection spree for a couple of minutes, then I switch over the jobs tab and scroll, and scroll and scroll. Numbers are everywhere -the words “success” and “job search” and “resumé” find their way into my dreary vision. Then LinkedIn pops up after an accidental tap, and suddenly I’m transported. I flip through my home screen knowing that if I fall asleep now, I’ll lose the precious minutes I could be spending doing productive things, like answering the emails waiting in my inbox or doing some last-minute studying for the history quiz I have tomorrow. Scrolling through Instagram gets old quickly, and so does Twitter. I squint at the bright screen in the oblivion of darkness that is my room and tug Chimchim, my stuffed bear, closer to tuck him under my chin. My glasses are smushed against the side of my face when I turn sideways to rest my arm comfortably next to my pillow. But it doesn’t matter-I’m about to stay up for another hour scrolling through social media, catching up on all the stuff I missed during the day. My watch is set to sleep mode, which means that I won’t be notified of 3 am emails from my teachers (who are always preaching about getting more sleep) or texts from my friends wondering how I did on the latest violin test.