The job search is broken.
Everyone knows it.
This is me trying to help.

If you’ve been through a job search recently, you already know how it feels. You spend real time on an application. You tailor your resume. You write something thoughtful. You hit submit. And then… nothing. No response. No rejection. Just silence.

You do it again the next day. And the day after that. For weeks. For months. And somewhere along the way, it stops feeling like a job search and starts feeling like shouting into a void.

And it’s not just hard on the people applying. Hiring managers are overwhelmed too. Their systems are flooded with applications, and the tools they use to sort through them are built for speed, not for actually finding the right person. Good people, people who would genuinely thrive in a role, get filtered out because a keyword didn’t match.

Nobody designed it to be this way. It just kind of… became this way. And it’s hard on everyone.

I know because I lived it.

In 2025, I got laid off. I’d spent ten years self-employed, building businesses, advising founders, and teaching marketing in a college of business, then gone back to a full-time role. About a year in, it was gone.

I was lucky. Freelance work kept money coming in while I searched. But I was also applying, consistently, for ten months.

I sent hundreds of applications. I networked with people adjacent to every role I wanted. I made tailored versions of my resume, especially early on. But after a while, I lost steam. It’s hard not to.

What stuck with me wasn’t the rejection. It was the disorder. I’m a go-to-market person. For twenty years I’ve built the systems companies use to find the right customers, reach the right people inside them, and follow up until something happens. And there I was, running my own search on hope and a spreadsheet.

That year left a mark. Not bitterness, just clarity: this shouldn’t feel this bad for this many people.

Then a friend asked for help.

During that year I’d also taught myself to build software. So when Nicole, a friend I’ve known since we were eleven, went back to work after years at home and asked whether AI could help with her search, I built her the thing I’d wished I had.

A page for each job that makes the case for her specifically. A short list of who to send it to. A way to keep track of every follow-up. Within ten days she had three phone screens, including the role she wanted most.

That became Hiremé. It brings the way enterprise sellers work to your job search. Every morning it pulls fresh roles from thousands of company job boards, so you can go wide. For the ones you want, it builds a personal page in the company’s colors that answers what the job post is really asking, shows you who to send it to, and keeps the follow-up clock running, so you can go deep.

Your first one takes about 90 seconds and costs a dollar. I kept the price low on purpose: the people who need this most are the ones who can least afford another subscription.

I don’t have all the answers. I’m sure other people are working on this problem in their own ways. But if I can make a thing that’s genuinely useful to people in a hard spot, that feels like a worthwhile thing to spend my time on.

The irony isn’t lost on me.

A lot of people are out of work right now partly because of AI. And here I am, using AI to try to help them get back on their feet. There’s something a little absurd about that. But also something kind of beautiful: using the tool to restore some of the humanity the process has lost.

We can’t fix the whole system. But maybe we can help people feel a little less invisible. Maybe we can help a hiring manager actually see someone they would have otherwise missed. And maybe that’s enough to start.