That title either rings true immediately or causes confusion; in either case I'm finding it often brings laughter. Observe.
There are a staggering number of possibilities out there, statistically speaking.
A few of them even seem like they might be a good fit.
So you dress up real pretty (resume/cover letter), and spend a lot of time saying "Hi" and smiling across the room (sending resumes).
Sometimes, you get a "Hi" back (acknowledgment of receipt of resume), and occasionally even a coffee date (interview, perhaps via phone or Skype).
This may even be followed by a dinner date (second or in-person interview), but it's still a little premature to obsess over how you'll respond if he offers you a ring--after all, unlike a conventional proposal, you get a few days to ponder out a job offer, and no one's really that heartbroken if you say no.
Okay, funny analogy, but so what? Searching for a job, like obsessive crushing, more or less requires the subject to live in a fantasy world that is only tangentially in touch with reality. Because there are so many targets and so few responses, everything changes so quickly; the story is so often completely different in just two days.
That's why so many conversations that are meant to be straightforward and kind are felt like this:
Friend 1: I want to show that I am interested in your life and well-being, so I'll ask how the job search is going, because I know that's a big thing in your life. It's the equivalent of asking "How's work?", right?
Friend 2: OH MY GOSH will people please stop asking me to give them the painfully intimate details of the fundamental uncertainty of my life at the present moment!? I mean, I'm glad you care, but can't we talk about anything else!? (Not that I can think of anything else, as the job search is kind of consuming my life at present... Hmmph.)
What's the moral of the story? I'm not really sure it has one. Sometimes the observation of a truth is enough.
Spiritus sapientiae et intellectus, miserere nobis.
Spiritus consilii, fortitudinis, scientiae, et pietatis, miserere nobis.
Spiritus timoris Domini et prudentiae, miserere nobis.
Note: The video whence the title catchphrase originates is entirely superfluous to my point, but for those of you now having Homestar Runner cravings, I've just saved you a Google search.