Jun 14, 2009
A picture speaks a thousand words
In between "normal" problem-solving sessions at OBT, we also played with lego. The idea was to produce lego versions of our professional, personal and aspirational selves. My aspirational self got lost before I could take a picture, but here are my first two representations. Amateur psychologists, enjoy.
Confidante
Over a refreshing glass of Perrier this afternoon, my friend N told me how she had recently chatted with our mutual friend S, who inquired about my general well-being and noted that she hadn't heard from me in a few weeks. To which N replied that this was perfectly normal as I now typically resorted to "speaking to my blog" rather than speaking to my friends.
Ouch. Is this true?
Well, to be honest, it probably is, a bit.
The old me would have probably gotten defensive and upset at this point. But the new me is all about introspection and self-improvement and being über-zen about all this shit so I decided to let it sink in, have a nice long think, then write about it on my blog. No, the irony isn't lost on me, either.
So why is it that I've developed this "Blog First, Talk Later" attitude? Well, mostly it's a way to structure my thoughts before I brain-dump my friends into a coma. Like many (most) people, I find it difficult to talk about the things that upset me in a calm, rational manner, especially when someone else actually intends to participate in the conversation and do annoying things like ask questions, test my logic, or provide well-intentioned advice. Half the time I don't even know what I'm talking about before I'm at least 2/3 of the way into my rant. Seriously.
By writing about it first, I can actually figure out what it is I want to talk about before I pick up the phone or meet you for coffee. Of course, it also means that I will probably be feeling better already, and therefore more inclined to have a chat about shoes, your latest boyfriend, or that article from last week's New York Times.
Trust me, you're better off this way.
My inner mind isn't the most attractive place right now.
Ouch. Is this true?
Well, to be honest, it probably is, a bit.
The old me would have probably gotten defensive and upset at this point. But the new me is all about introspection and self-improvement and being über-zen about all this shit so I decided to let it sink in, have a nice long think, then write about it on my blog. No, the irony isn't lost on me, either.
So why is it that I've developed this "Blog First, Talk Later" attitude? Well, mostly it's a way to structure my thoughts before I brain-dump my friends into a coma. Like many (most) people, I find it difficult to talk about the things that upset me in a calm, rational manner, especially when someone else actually intends to participate in the conversation and do annoying things like ask questions, test my logic, or provide well-intentioned advice. Half the time I don't even know what I'm talking about before I'm at least 2/3 of the way into my rant. Seriously.
By writing about it first, I can actually figure out what it is I want to talk about before I pick up the phone or meet you for coffee. Of course, it also means that I will probably be feeling better already, and therefore more inclined to have a chat about shoes, your latest boyfriend, or that article from last week's New York Times.
Trust me, you're better off this way.
My inner mind isn't the most attractive place right now.
Jun 12, 2009
Recovery
God I'm tired. Emotionally, physically, mentally exhausted.
But I wanted to let you know that I was home. That I will be trying hard to stick to the good resolutions laid out in the obligatory, end-of-OBT letter to myself. That I will therefore be looking for creative career/life alternatives. And that I will be doing all this while taking many early Eurostars.
So if you see a little brunette in a black suit snoozing in business class on the 7am to St Pancras, please feel free to tuck a little note under my complementary breakfast with your suggestions for what I should do next.
There will be prizes.
But I wanted to let you know that I was home. That I will be trying hard to stick to the good resolutions laid out in the obligatory, end-of-OBT letter to myself. That I will therefore be looking for creative career/life alternatives. And that I will be doing all this while taking many early Eurostars.
So if you see a little brunette in a black suit snoozing in business class on the 7am to St Pancras, please feel free to tuck a little note under my complementary breakfast with your suggestions for what I should do next.
There will be prizes.
Jun 6, 2009
Random personal things that happened this week
*Someone said they found it strange that I felt so comfortable opening up in this environment. Maybe. But I feel comfortable opening up in any kind of environment. Maybe what's strange is that the work-me and the me-me is the same person.
*I gave someone here the address to this blog. I don't know why. In fact, as far as I know only one other BM consultant has the address to this blog, and that's because he's a good friend of mine. And yet, here I was giving away the key to my deepest, darkest, could-get-me-fired secrets to someone I'd only met 48hrs before. That's also strange.
*I was told 24hrs ago that I will be staffed in London after this (and no, it's not related to banking...), and am already drowning under dinner invitations, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
*I got invited to somebody's wedding. I don't know if he was serious.
*I realized that I'm a litigator who gets deeply unsettled by conflict. I don't know what that means.
*I gave someone here the address to this blog. I don't know why. In fact, as far as I know only one other BM consultant has the address to this blog, and that's because he's a good friend of mine. And yet, here I was giving away the key to my deepest, darkest, could-get-me-fired secrets to someone I'd only met 48hrs before. That's also strange.
*I was told 24hrs ago that I will be staffed in London after this (and no, it's not related to banking...), and am already drowning under dinner invitations, which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
*I got invited to somebody's wedding. I don't know if he was serious.
*I realized that I'm a litigator who gets deeply unsettled by conflict. I don't know what that means.
All about (the new) me
OBT is a lot about the serious work stuff. How to structure. How to synthesize. How to problem solve. To be honest, that stuff is pretty boring.
But there's also a rather large "touchy-feely people stuff" component of the program. As far as I can tell, few people either enjoy it or get much out of it. As for me, it has led me to a rather startling epiphany, and possibly a complete reshuffling of my life.
I have always been pretty confident about what kind of person I am. I know what I'm good at, what I'm comfortable with, what I'm interested in - and what I'm not so good at. In fact, I was rated very highly on self-awareness in the feedback I've gotten this week (and there has been an obscene amount of feedback this week). Except the feedback then proceeded to tell me I was fabulous at all the things I thought I was terrible at and not all that great at the stuff I thought made me the wonderful person that I am today.
Shit.
Little by little, this week, my entire being has been analysed, dissected, and broken down into tiny little pieces. Not the most pleasant experience. But the new picture others are throwing back at me makes so much more sense. Only one problem. This new (real) me should probably not be at BM. Or in a law firm. Or in any of the jobs I have always had within my field of vision. This new me probably needs to be doing something different entirely.
Double shit.
Cleary, I'm going to have to have a bit of a think about all this.
Perhaps I'll have a glass of wine first.
But there's also a rather large "touchy-feely people stuff" component of the program. As far as I can tell, few people either enjoy it or get much out of it. As for me, it has led me to a rather startling epiphany, and possibly a complete reshuffling of my life.
I have always been pretty confident about what kind of person I am. I know what I'm good at, what I'm comfortable with, what I'm interested in - and what I'm not so good at. In fact, I was rated very highly on self-awareness in the feedback I've gotten this week (and there has been an obscene amount of feedback this week). Except the feedback then proceeded to tell me I was fabulous at all the things I thought I was terrible at and not all that great at the stuff I thought made me the wonderful person that I am today.
Shit.
Little by little, this week, my entire being has been analysed, dissected, and broken down into tiny little pieces. Not the most pleasant experience. But the new picture others are throwing back at me makes so much more sense. Only one problem. This new (real) me should probably not be at BM. Or in a law firm. Or in any of the jobs I have always had within my field of vision. This new me probably needs to be doing something different entirely.
Double shit.
Cleary, I'm going to have to have a bit of a think about all this.
Perhaps I'll have a glass of wine first.
Jun 4, 2009
How the other BM lives
We've almost reached the half-way point of the OBT. Key takeaway? This is not the same BM I've been working at for the past 9 months.
There are many reasons for that. Here, we take time to use all the right "tools" and "techniques" rather than get stressed out by the client and spend our time fighting fires. We talk about "people" stuff more than about "levers of profitability". We stop work at 6pm to get ready for the karaoke bar.
But these are all the differences I expected. What I wasn't anticipating is that these people are not the same people I'm surrounded by in BM's Paris office.
I can't tell you if the difference is that they're not French, or if it's the international environment in itself I'm responding to. But I like these people. I get these people. I am these people. Don't worry, I haven't taken a happy pill, I still feel like pummelling quite a few of my fellow trainees. But not everybody. My new "training buddies" are not pre-packaged, pasteurized 23-yr-olds with scary zombie eyes watching your every move to make sure you don't do anything "different." Instead they relish individuality, they're open and honest and seem to love nothing more than to talk about how BM drives them crazy and how they love Gossip Girl over a couple (more) drinks.
Before coming here my boss told me I'd be re-energized and come back to the office happy. Instead, these past few days have brought home to me how uncomfortable and unhappy I've been feeling at work, and why. So now what? Do I need to transfer? Quit? Move to a different country?
I love France in a profound, irrational, emotional way. But why is it that I can't fit in?
There are many reasons for that. Here, we take time to use all the right "tools" and "techniques" rather than get stressed out by the client and spend our time fighting fires. We talk about "people" stuff more than about "levers of profitability". We stop work at 6pm to get ready for the karaoke bar.
But these are all the differences I expected. What I wasn't anticipating is that these people are not the same people I'm surrounded by in BM's Paris office.
I can't tell you if the difference is that they're not French, or if it's the international environment in itself I'm responding to. But I like these people. I get these people. I am these people. Don't worry, I haven't taken a happy pill, I still feel like pummelling quite a few of my fellow trainees. But not everybody. My new "training buddies" are not pre-packaged, pasteurized 23-yr-olds with scary zombie eyes watching your every move to make sure you don't do anything "different." Instead they relish individuality, they're open and honest and seem to love nothing more than to talk about how BM drives them crazy and how they love Gossip Girl over a couple (more) drinks.
Before coming here my boss told me I'd be re-energized and come back to the office happy. Instead, these past few days have brought home to me how uncomfortable and unhappy I've been feeling at work, and why. So now what? Do I need to transfer? Quit? Move to a different country?
I love France in a profound, irrational, emotional way. But why is it that I can't fit in?
The scene
(Editor's note: Drafted on Sunday night)
A charming and rather remote European village (which shall remain nameless) at dusk. A (still)young woman walks through the lobby of a sprawling hotel, her movements hampered by an impressive assortment of luggage strapped across her shoulders. Clutching her room key and "welcome package" in her hands, she climbs the stairs and finds the door marked 116. Behind it lies not the cramped cupboard she was expecting (this being the era of cost-cutting) but a large suite only slightly smaller than her appartment, complete with a separate living room area, a private balcony, and a guest toilet. Yes, a guest toilet. She thought it was weird too.
Tired, and probably more nervous than she would like to admit, the young woman quietly unpacks her bag, brushes her teeth and slips into bed. Tomorrow, she knows, she will put her big, bright smile on, approach the team-building tasks with a careful balance of humour and earnest dedication, and reveal rather too much personal information than is entirely suitable at BM. But tonight, she will sleep.
A charming and rather remote European village (which shall remain nameless) at dusk. A (still)young woman walks through the lobby of a sprawling hotel, her movements hampered by an impressive assortment of luggage strapped across her shoulders. Clutching her room key and "welcome package" in her hands, she climbs the stairs and finds the door marked 116. Behind it lies not the cramped cupboard she was expecting (this being the era of cost-cutting) but a large suite only slightly smaller than her appartment, complete with a separate living room area, a private balcony, and a guest toilet. Yes, a guest toilet. She thought it was weird too.
Tired, and probably more nervous than she would like to admit, the young woman quietly unpacks her bag, brushes her teeth and slips into bed. Tomorrow, she knows, she will put her big, bright smile on, approach the team-building tasks with a careful balance of humour and earnest dedication, and reveal rather too much personal information than is entirely suitable at BM. But tonight, she will sleep.
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