Rome or Bust

I'm leaving for Rome tomorrow afternoon.

I should be attending a case study seminar...consulting stuff..but then again, this entire MBA is all about “shoulds” and should nots…and coulds, cans, wills, and will nots.

I’m hoping these are lessons in themselves- sacrificing one opportunity for another- or being so incredibly inundated with assignments and appointments and engagements that there are as many missed opportunities as there are opportunities taken. I feel pushed so far out of my own boundaries that I’m at a standstill. I’ve stalled. If I shut my eyes for a moment- another potential career path has fled from my peripheral vision. 

So now- I’m the one fleeing. 

And if I miss a seminar here or there? I don’t think- don’t think anymore, that is- that it will be the end of the world. 

If I had enough hours in these days...or years in this degree...I would do everything. Unfortunately, I can't. 

Pre-term is almost over...financial accounting and stats are done- and we have a few more exams to go. I still haven't slept and apparently, we were supposed to have known what field we wanted to go into BEFORE the MBA ever really began. 

No one told me this.

My days are plagued with numbers and figures and theories I didn’t even know existed- and my nights are inundated with the reality of the nightmares I will be facing when I rise the next day- and have even more drastic decisions to make. Decisions that, apparently, I should have come prepared to make. I'm not being dramatic right now- I don’t think that it’s possible to over-dramatize the severity of this situation. I can only, after weeks of attempting to deal with it- to put it all into compartments in my mind, sort it out- sort myself out- I can only laugh. 

And go to Rome. 

Our resumes and cover letters have been butchered and beaten- and now we are meant to hand them over and accept the fact that everything we have worked so hard to become- is held within a few lines of words and numbers. Most of which have no meaning to me.... So after a few conversations that only managed to confuse me more- and the inner battle between what I've been told I want and what I truly desire, I've decided against consulting. For now. So I'm going to Rome. For now. 

Screw consultancies and their deadlines...

Rome. Now...there's something I know. I get Rome. I fit in in Rome- in the piazzas, in the cafes amongst the culture that helped form me- and made me want to come back to Europe one day. I don't fit in here...in class…staring blankly at brilliant professors who actually expect me to understand regression coefficients and accumulated amortization. I never did, probably never will- but again, that has never stopped me. I'm here now, aren't I? And although I'm lost in almost every single aspect and I don't expect it to get much easier...Rome awaits. 

Going back to Rome, to me, is like paying a visit to a long lost love. This MBA- well, this is a new relationship that seems to have hit a rough patch- and that’s never a good sign this early on. We should still be flirting. So I do what any girl would do- revert to my old ways- to something farmiliar…comfortable…safe. 

Except- instead of running into the arms of someone who knows me and loves me, I’m getting on a plane and spending a few days walking the streets that have held my weight before- in hopes that they can still hold me up- when I’m about ready to fall.

And then Monday- i'll come back to Barcelona- and I’ll try this again. With consulting out of the equation. For now.

But as I see it- its McKinsey’s loss. Ciao amici.