There are those work days when you’re the flack and the company convulses. Hastily called meetings pulse with intensity, pressure and fear. There’s been a death in the OR, shooting in a stairwell, hacking in cyberspace, or a financial explosion. Executives huddle. Co-workers whisper. And, past your desk, where the “Comms” team is parsing strategy and statements, come sympathetic well-wishers. Gee, I don’t envy YOU right now. Glad I don't have YOUR job today.

Really? PR’s not-so-secret little secret is that crisis immersion can be fun. You’re in the middle of fast-paced news. It’s a chance to be creative. You can make a strategic difference from the foxhole.

For me, now wedged into the trenches of a job hunt, the parallels are apparent. It ought to be awful. I need a salary and benefits; there’s a mortgage in the balance and the stress is real, of course. Silence sucks and rejection stings. The unknown future makes my stomach flip. Empathic pals offer that same line: I sure don't envy YOU right now.

But close friends and colleagues have called me right out: Admit it, you ENJOY it.

Yes, here again, sticky situations prove more rewarding than most feel free to say.

The job search is a chance to reach out to everyone I know with a reason to connect. A never-shy social animal, on and off social media, I relish the chance to ask for advice, hear opinions, and dish with old co-workers. The last time I asked so many accomplished people to talk about their work was years ago as a Wall Street Journal reporter. I can pose good questions, reflect on the answers, and be a curious soul while researching new and intriguing businesses and groups. Pounding the pavement evokes what I liked best about journalistic shoe leather.

It has also sent me out onto the street, literally, where I’ve found a new visual voice taking photos of others going about their day. And I’ve been listening to that other voice nagging me to get more writing done. Meanwhile, I have time make it to spin class. While I’m no longer flush, it’s sure nice to be fit.

Looking for work is a job, the cliché goes. Damn straight, and one that I sure hope leads to advancement. But even when you think you’ve clinched a role that slips away, there’s the oddly welcome sense of an ever-changing story; call it writer's fuel. Yes, I’m willing to reveal my counter-intuitive pleasure in doing some strategic thinking and tackling projects that might have lingered.-- like this blog, after all.