Spring cleaning

As you can see, I've decided to give my blog a new look for 2009. I'm not totally happy about it (I blame Blogger's limitations, and my own html inadequacies) so if anyone has any suggestions (or a better picture to grace the sidebar) please feel free! I've also put in updated links to pages I think are worth checking out (not even INSEAD-related...) for you own personal enjoyment.

Breathe

N has put me to shame. After a prolonged hiatus, I logged on to her blog last night only to find that she had written half of War & Peace since the date of my last post. Something had to be done, so here I am.

Posting, incidentally, is not really like riding a bike; you do tend to lose the hang of it when it's been a while. Structure, vocabulary, even inspiration goes out the window. So this will be a post "en vrac". Besides, I can blame my poorly oxygenated brain.

Speaking of which. My parents are convinced that I almost died a week ago. Personally, I think that's a bit of an over-dramatization but if it makes the blog more exciting, let's roll with it. In any event, I did end up having to be whisked off to the emergency room last Sunday, having all of a sudden decided to stop breathing. While rather unfortunate, I didn't really think it would be a big deal; one strong shot of super-toxic steroids, I figured, and I'd be back home getting into my powersuit in time for my morning meeting. But it was not to be.

Apparently, I have developed some sudden, evil allergy to my adorable cats that I love so much. Weeks of daily exposure to the furballs led to an insidious shredding of those all-important little lung-bits I use to breathe in and out about 20,000 times a day. This in turn led to the Asthma Attack That Wouldn't Go Away. To make a long story short, I spent 4 days in hospital hooked up to all sorts of oxygen tubes and IV drips and getting medicated to a semi-constant high. And now I am on another week of bed rest under my parent's unyielding surveillance, but fortunately tube-free (seriously, those oxygen tubes that look like no big deal in the movies get super annoying and itchy after a few days).

So that was my week, how have you guys been?!

Anyways, what happens when you're sick and haven't slept in weeks (not being able to breathe really gets in the way of catching some zzzs) is the whole world suddenly seems very bleak and anything and everything constitutes a perfectly legitimate reason to cry. I have to give up my cats. I'm single, childless, dissatisfied with my career and turning 32 this year. I can't manage to peel off the top of the yogurt pot. Waterworks every time. But honestly, can you blame me?

I've decided to be a bit more positive today, though. Mostly because I've started sleeping again - not really through any great exercise of positive willpower. But I did watch this Louis CK interview on Conan (sorry, can't embed Youtube link, you'll just have to go watch it yourself) posted under the title: Everything's Amazing, Nobody's Happy. Which is a shame really. Hence my new motto: Everything Pretty Much Sucks But Feeling Crappy About It's Not Going To Help.

So, taking my cue from one of N's posts, here's a list of 5 things I feel good about today:

1. This morning, for the first time in a really long time, I woke up not because I couldn't breathe but just because I woke up. Very cool feeling.

2. I had breakfast outside cause it's sunny and warm (finally!) and I was actually able to make it all the way out of bed and downstairs without asphyxiating myself.

3. I haven't had a cigarette in a week. Though the cravings are still pretty bad (yes, it is possible to crave cigarettes even when you can't breathe) I figure this is a golden opportunity to embark on major quitting attempt N°2 (I lasted a year last time, so I know it can be done!)

4. My good friend and neighbour N is coming over for a house-visit later, and I'll be able to chatter away to her without having to stop every 5 seconds to catch my breath. I'll even be able to laugh without risking major brain damage.

5. Unlike a friend of mine who has recently discovered his calling, joined the army, and is being shipped off in two weeks, I am not about to pack my bags to go to Afghanistan (but seriously, M, be careful, you're not all that tough, don't forget you're a lawyer after all...)

OK, so that last one was a bit of a stretch, and the first four are mostly about breathing, but hey, I'm working on it. And I'm posting again. So big ups for me.

The little voice inside my head

So, that little lawyer-shaped devil inside my head has been talking to me again. Loud. The first time was last Sunday, as I spent a couple hours giving a friend legal advice on her business plan, and found myself getting more excited than I had been in ages. And it didn't seem to matter that I didn't know what on earth I was talking about (that's right folks, just because your friend/relative/random person you meet at a party has a legal degree, it doesn't mean he or she necessarily knows anything about the laws relating to divorce/intellectual property in the Middle East/fishing licences in Vanuatu/fill in the blank...)

A few days later, as I started working on my second project since I started life at BM, I realized my thoughts had inexplicably turned away from the proper alignment of boxes on my powerpoint slide to pontificate loudly on the inherent and possibly dangerous legal ambiguity in a document my client was about to sign. Fortunately, the client was not in the room, but the rest of my team was looking daggers at me (and possibly contemplating having me committed to a mental institution... or a due diligence cupboard).

And then there's the fact that I seem to be the only person in my immediate vicinity who thought the most interesting thing in the news this week was that Obama took the oath of office for a second time. But I could just see in my mind the myriad of legal arguments I could make, if asked, for both sides of the fascinating question of whether or not he had been acting ultra vires in his first day in office. (And right now you're thinking that just the fact that I'm using the term ultra vires in a sentence should be enough to have me committed...)

So what should I do about this little devil on my shoulder, whispering sweet nothings in my ear? Ignore it? Consider a switch back into law? Have my hearing checked?

A question of trust

So one evening I walked out of the office, late at night, when I was accosted by a mild-mannered, slightly befuddled looking middle-aged man. After satisfying himself that I could speak English, he proceeded to explain that he was from Switzerland, on holiday in Paris with his wife, and that his credit card had just gotten gobbled up by the ATM. Anxious to get back to his hotel (especially given the late hour, the cold, and the rain), he found himself in a bit of a pickle, given that he had no cash to pay for a taxi. You see where this is going. Anyway, after receiving numerous assurances of good faith from this man, I gave him my contact details and 20 euros that he promised to return the very next day.

This was two months ago. I have not heard from him since.

Now why do I tell you this story? Simply because it is symptomatic of a broader inner struggle I have been having within myself. Many people will tell you that, over the past few years, I have become someone with "trust issues". These same people have also managed to convince me that being able to trust my fellow man (woman/ organisation/ feral cat) is the key to finding personal happiness.

Taking this precious advice on board, I have resolved to be more trusting, putting a little faith in people where before I would have built fortresses of cynicism. And this, in all aspects of my life: from the man in the street to the more recurring characters in the Res Ipsa play, from my professional life to my personal life. So far, this little experiment has in most cases resulted in debacle, à la Swiss taxi guy.

So now, on this day where millions are putting their trust in the new incoming American president, setting aside disbelief and years of previously dashed hopes, I ask: what now? Is saying "I trust you not to steal my twenty euros", "I trust you not to make my job a nightmare", "I trust you not to break my heart", more or less delusional than saying "I trust you to solve all of the world's problems"? Should I soldier on, trusting that one day all this trust will be repaid in happiness, or is it time for the safe, tried-and-tested protectionist era to return?

Christmas Pot-pourri

Yes, it's been a while since I've posted. No, it doesn't mean I don't love you.

The reason for the silence is mostly that I've been submerged with work, and during my free time have prioritised living my life rather than writing about it. Which, I think you will concede, is a reasonable choice.

However, it is the holiday season and as such, time for some introspection and taking stock of the current state of affairs. Feeling rather scattered, however, I offer you a hodge-podge collection of my thoughts, only loosely organized into a three-part framework structure of my life.

The good...


1) I have a job. That counts as a "Good Thing". Especially in light of the current crisis, which has resulted in hundreds of highly-qualified, deserving MBAs finding themselves still unemployed, 6 months after graduation. I take this opportunity to call upon any alumni who might be reading these pages to make an extra special effort and show some solidarity in these trying times. Any of you who would be interested in receiving Res Ipsa's Zagat rating of top ten employable MBA J08s should feel free to get in touch...

2) I have a social life. Granted, I still occasionally have to cancel plans, and meeting friends for dinner during the week is a quasi impossibility but still, there's been tremendous progress since my last foray into the job market. And between family, pre-mid-life-crisis friends, INSEAD friends, and the far-away friends that I promise to finally get around to visiting, there's plenty to keep me busy.

The bad...

3) The general mood is crap. Let's face it, this is the ultimate anti-depressant-popping era. Markets are yo-yo-ing, jobs are disappearing, and us 30-somethings are stuck in the middle of this mess with all the normal difficult life stuff to deal with as well. Several of my friends have been having a really hard time of it lately, and the gloom seems to be spreading like chicken pox in a playground sandbox. Here's hoping that 2009 brings the smiles back.

4) Temperatures are sub-arctic. So this is not quite on the same level as, say, famine in Africa or the Middle East peace process, but it is nevertheless one of my chief concerns at the moment. Paris has turned into a polar-bear friendly environment in recent weeks and, to my utmost dismay, the client site I am working from is essentially unheated. Why an organisation would pay to bring in BM consultants but fail to invest in an efficient central heating system will remain one of the great mysteries of life...

The as yet undetermined...

5) I have no idea where my career will take me. Yes, I am happy that I have a job. Yes, there has been a noticeable lifestyle improvement. And yet. I just can't seem to shake this nagging feeling that this job is not for me. More worrying, there's a rather nasal little voice in my head that keeps suggesting that my perfect job is in fact... international litigator. Damn. What does that mean about what I should learn at BM? how long I should stay? where I should go from here?

6) I have no idea where my life will take me. This is a whole other kettle of fish, although intimately related to the point above. Until now, my life has pretty much boiled down to my career, so resolving one meant resolving the other. But having now reached the grand old age of... well, more than 30, should that still be the case? And if I should go out and conquer other of life's territories, what's the battle plan? And how do I ensure that I don't end up in a ditch somewhere minus a few limbs and with a large axe sticking out of my head? OK, perhaps I dramatize a bit, but you see my point. I thought I was making progress by seeking to apply BM problem-solving techniques to my personal life, but unfortunately I got no further than structuring the problem before the plan backfired. I should have known better...!

So there you have it. A snapshot of my brain's turmoils in 6 points and 3 parts. Stay tuned for updates in 2009...

Settling In

In terms of settling into my new apartment, I'm not doing a very good job. There are still a few (too many) boxes around, I'm still sans wardrobe, I'm still taking hours to find my stuff in the mornings, and there's still no food in my fridge.


But in terms of settling into my new Parisian life, I think I'm almost there. I really thought it would be harder, and lonelier, than it has been. While at INSEAD, everyone was talking about Dubai, London, Singapore, and I was worried I was going to get left behind. Instead, I now find myself in the "most happening" city in the INSEAD world! Whether it's because of the current job market, the fact that Paris is on the way to most places, or simply because people have finally realized this is the most beautiful city in the world (there's the chauvinist in me), France's capital has definitely become a hub of INSEAD activity. At least once or twice a week I find myself surrounded by former classmates having dinner, going dancing, celebrating housewarmings or making Charlie Chaplin films (don't ask). And of course there are the old friends, the ones who have stayed true despite the Fontainebleau hiatus during which I fell off the face of the earth, and who are now happily re-found.

So here I am with a busier social life than I have ever had, requiring the investment of significant physical and emotional energy. Don't get me wrong. Despite what some have said, this is not a continuation of INSEAD. Things today are very different; this is not just another "P". The people around me are not the same as a few months ago, or the ones I would necessarily have expected to be part of my new life. Some friends have been lost (or at least temporarily displaced) by the effect of geography, timing or life's unpredictable quirks, and others gained. Happily, there are also the two or three people I am so lucky to have kept close, and with whom I am now developing something perhaps more serious, and more "real" than what we might have had during those fickle INSEAD days.

A new career, a new apartment, a new city, new bonds, new feelings (not to mention a new, historical, US political landscape - go Obama!)... These first few months of my post-third-life-crisis life have been rife with upheaval, an ever-changing cartography I'm now slowly adapting to. Fortunately, some things never change. Like the fact that I can still ramble on for hours about absolutely nothing just for the pleasure of sending my thoughts into the ether. Like the fact that it's often a strong emotional reaction to someone close to me that gets me writing, and yet I never actually write about it (is that frustrating for you, I wonder?!) Like the fact that cigarettes, beer and melodramatic music (Pink Floyd, this time) always get the creative juices flowing.

It's good to know there are some things you can count on.

The perfect little consultant

Well, as you may have guessed from my silence since the last post (apologies to those of you who have been clamoring for news), things have livened up a bit at BM. Although my weekends have remained work-free (with the exception of one, outrageously extravagant and blessedly juvenile 4-day "office retreat") my weeks are now choc-full with problem-solving sessions, conference calls, meetings left right and center, and of course the artistic creation of Picasso-esque slides. In French: pages.

That's something else I've had to get used to. It's not enough to have to adapt to an entirely new way of working, new people, new types of problems, I also have to do this in French. Well, a language that pretends to be French, anyway. More like Franglais with a BM-twist. By next month I can guarantee that my family and friends will no longer be able to understand a word I'm saying.

So here I am, dutifully listening to my manager (who is younger than me), drawing pretty boxes and arrows and bubulles, and thinking back with longing of those days when I used to have a social life. And time to eat (the great mystery of why all BM female consultants are so thin having been resolved).

When I'm not attempting to force a business manual down my client's throat (and dodging the errant bullets from angry protesters outside the building), I am attempting to settle into my new apartment. I'm not complaining, the apartment is fabulous. Or will be, once the gigantic cardboard-box maze running through it finally gets cleared and my belongings become somewhat accessible. This morning witnessed the first breakfast, as I finally found cereal bowls and one spoon (why on earth there was a box containing a single, lonely spoon, I will never know).

So now that I've managed to ramble on incomprehensibly (not very consultant-like of me...) I will leave you to your fabulous lives and exercise my amazing powers of persuasion on my colleagues to see if they can be convinced that 2pm is not actually too early for lunch.