the lost man chronicles
the daily chronicle

Knot Good

I sobbed like a sissy boy on the bowl.

Returning to my desk from lunch I decided to take a detour and go to the bathroom to see if I could catch up on the reading I could not concentrate on while eating.

Alas, the book lie on the cold tile floor as I cradled my face in my open palms and released a load of stress through a silent sob. A few tension-filled tears fell to the floor as I let go of my emotional control, subsequently realizing that repression had been partly to blame for the knotted shoulders Iíve painfully endured over the last month.

Albeit it all felt quite natural, I could not help but believe that this sudden break-down was quite unbecoming of my usual calm demeanor. In my own mind, I have long been legendary for keeping my cool regardless of any Atlas-sized weight I am obligated to bear. And yet, Iíll admit that letting go, if merely for a moment, felt exceedingly consoling.

The catharsis was long overdue anyway. For Iíve been debating my fate for the last month, contemplating the idea of applying to and hopefully attending business school part-time over the next four years.

Although, it is not really what I truly desire to do academically, it would be a wholly pragmatic decision. For not only does my employer openly encourage employees to earn MBAs, but they are willing to pay a significant part of the billóhalf in my case.

Moreover, even though I truly do like my job, Iím stuck. There is currently little horizontal or vertical mobility that I can see on the horizon and these new credentials would practically ensure new opportunities in the future.

Finally, Iím intellectually dying with what Iím doing now. Iíve been spinning my wheels for a long time because, although the initiatives under my auspices often require a diligent and earnest application, the long hours do not likewise require much brainpower. Most of what I do I am rather skilled at and so I am apt to get pretty lazy at times.

In sum, I need something challengingóand Iíve been thinking that going back to school is the answer.

Ideally, I would be returning for a doctorate in cognitive scienceómy current passion, but the Company wonít pay for that, and at this moment I am not qualified to enter any such PhD program anywhere anyway.

So, the plan is to prepare for that while attending B School for the next fours, after which I would graduate with an MBA specializing in International Marketing and Industrial Psychology.

And although I have pondered and planned and strategically determined many of the next steps, Iíve already encountered somewhat of an impasse. For I was immediately reminded of how inept I am when it comes to processing numbers.

As soon as I began taking a practice GMAT test online I was thrown aback by how ignorant I am at basic math. Subsequently, I referred to some arithmetic reviews and, lo and behold, I was again readily reminded of why I have pursued honing my written and verbal skills for most of my lifeómath is simply not my thing.

I have long known and accepted that the part of my brain which is supposed to be able to process calculations and algorithms and formulas was apparently never hooked upóthe neurons in that region never sprouted and somehow I passed through all the required courses from high-school on through grad school without having to light up the left side of my brain.

However, I would be riding upon a fallacy if I attributed my ineptness to hemispherical imbalance, because many of the skills that I do boast are active on the same side of my head as those requisite of math.

And so once again I am torn between my belief that one can accomplish practically anythingóyes, I can learn basic math with a little effortóand the notion that many years of trial and error, pain and mental anguish, have clearly demonstrated that I simply lack the facility to count anything beyond the cost of a cup of coffee.

in the beginning .00 the beginning return to daily archives daily archives

legal l.m