24 hours and counting
until I am home watching television without a pressing case study nagging me for attention. I've gone from a leisurely break of novel-reading and Eastenders-watching straight into hyperdrive on the MBA.
Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled with my classes. I'm intellectually challenged. I'm excited about the entrepreneurship project, and have forged some solid working teams for the term. But what's wrong with easing a poor sap into this torture? Must we be unceremoniously dropped into the thick of things?
I'm exhausted. I've given up on makeup. I've made it to the gym a few times this week but have gone to bed with wet hair because I'm too tired to dry it. Which means I wake up with a strangely tangled helmet of curls that cannot be repaired, and end up with my hair pulled back all day. I'm pulling ill-fitting crap out of my closet and calling it an outfit because I don't have time to do laundry. To think that, only a week ago, I looked well rested and put together....well, that's just pathetic, frankly.
As I type, I'm sitting in the Forum, a public space in the School of Management, waiting for my dinner dates to show up. It's the first official day of the 07/08 MBA programme, and the newbies are congregating before walking across to the CMDC for their welcome dinner. There they all stand, in their blue suits and nametags, making awkward conversation with strangers who intimidate them because they're shit-hot players who are good enough to be Cranfield MBAs. You see aggressive stances. You see nervous laughter. You see people on the periphery of groups, not comfortable jumping in and yet not wanting to stand off by themselves. The women are sitting together, what since they're only 8% or so of the total group and they don't want to appear inappropriately flirtatious. You have a few "personalities" working the room and establishing themselves as alpha leaders. Wait until they find out that today's dynamics are only round one...all this groudwork will shift at least three times before they head home next Saturday, and by this time next year there will be a defined social strata they can't even imagine right now. They can only imagine the late night Skype calls and the learning team dramas and the exhaustion ahead of them on Saturday nights.
Oh, to be shiny and new again.
Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled with my classes. I'm intellectually challenged. I'm excited about the entrepreneurship project, and have forged some solid working teams for the term. But what's wrong with easing a poor sap into this torture? Must we be unceremoniously dropped into the thick of things?
I'm exhausted. I've given up on makeup. I've made it to the gym a few times this week but have gone to bed with wet hair because I'm too tired to dry it. Which means I wake up with a strangely tangled helmet of curls that cannot be repaired, and end up with my hair pulled back all day. I'm pulling ill-fitting crap out of my closet and calling it an outfit because I don't have time to do laundry. To think that, only a week ago, I looked well rested and put together....well, that's just pathetic, frankly.
As I type, I'm sitting in the Forum, a public space in the School of Management, waiting for my dinner dates to show up. It's the first official day of the 07/08 MBA programme, and the newbies are congregating before walking across to the CMDC for their welcome dinner. There they all stand, in their blue suits and nametags, making awkward conversation with strangers who intimidate them because they're shit-hot players who are good enough to be Cranfield MBAs. You see aggressive stances. You see nervous laughter. You see people on the periphery of groups, not comfortable jumping in and yet not wanting to stand off by themselves. The women are sitting together, what since they're only 8% or so of the total group and they don't want to appear inappropriately flirtatious. You have a few "personalities" working the room and establishing themselves as alpha leaders. Wait until they find out that today's dynamics are only round one...all this groudwork will shift at least three times before they head home next Saturday, and by this time next year there will be a defined social strata they can't even imagine right now. They can only imagine the late night Skype calls and the learning team dramas and the exhaustion ahead of them on Saturday nights.
Oh, to be shiny and new again.
Comments
We are too old for this schedule, TS. What were we thinking????