Getting used to being in school again

I've completed the second week of the class that is officially marks the start of my pursuit of a part-time MBA degree. For the past 2 weeks, I've been wondering why I'm doing this. I've been out of school for 5 years now. I enjoy working during the day and having my nights and weekends play with whatever projects I please. It has been extremely difficult for me to give up 2 nights per week for class and another 2 for studying. I've complained about losing my free time so often that my wife has asked me several time if I wanted to quit.

To some extent, that doesn't seem like a bad idea. I don't have specific plans for my career once I complete my degree. I already have a Masters degree; an MBA may not improve my chances of obtaining an enjoyable career. I'm the type of person who thinks that people who climb Mt. Everest are idiots. The chance of failure / death is great and the motivation of "climbing it because it was there" seems difficult at best.

Last night, I started studying for my first test – later than later than I had intended. I decided to get out my old backpack to find the calculator I would need for the test. Just like me, it needed to have the batteries replaced to function properly in an academic environment. I also found my pencils and eraser stick device. I decided to give them and try. The Pentel P207 mechanical pencil had a very familiar feel to it. The diameter is much smaller and the tip is much longer than any writing instrument I currently use. Because of the smaller diameter, the tip of my thumb nail contacted my index finger when I grasped the barrel. This was a familiar sensation. I looked at my Pentel eraser stick. I noticed the "chew" marks around the top. I couldn't believe that I ever put that thing in my mouth – I despise people chewing in pens.

I start studying, taking notes, and working sample problems. I became somewhat enjoyable to be working, concentrating, and preparing. While working on a problem, I noticed the eraser stick in my mouth. I also realized that my upper canine tooth was lodged in the broken area of the easer. This also was a familiar sensation; one that I had forgotten several years ago.

As I'm leaving for work this morning, I noticed that my wife had parked by 1990 Acura Integra in the drive way, preventing me from driving my other vehicle. I purchased the Integra just before my senior year of college and it has been a trusted companion through grad school and the 5 years since. I traded for the Integra keys and headed to work. I studied briefly towards the end of the day, packed up my notes, and headed to class.

I arrived at class early, waited for the previous class to finish, took my seat, and started the test. This is the most awake I've felt all day – and there has been no caffeine assistance. I look at the test, think I know how to do the problem, and start working. I'm extremely meticulous. I'm checking every number, noting every cross-reference, including every unit, etc. I really take my time to make sure every step is correct before moving to the next. Two hours, I'm the last one to turn in my exam. Some people have been finished for 45 minutes. I was just being really careful – I never questioned my ability to do the problem. I believe my paper was 100% correct.

Now that the test is complete, I'm enjoying the sense of relief and accomplishment. I feel like I'm getting back into the groove. I remember during grad school, when I was working a total of 3 part-time jobs, taking classes, working on my thesis, and working on projects, the days were very long. There were so many different segments to each day that I seemed to last forever. I'm starting to feel the exact same way now. I can't believe it's only Wednesday. Usually the week is over after accomplishing this amount of "work". As I was driving home, I lowered the windows and opened the sunroof. I felt collegiate reminiscent. I wished my CD changer were working so I could listen to DMB UTTAD, but I had to settle for the radio.

I'm at the base of the mountain, starting my climb toward base camp. Only 3 years to go until the summit is reached.

Written by in: Life Reflections,MBA | Last updated on: 2014-May-27 |

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