I'm back in classes as of Monday. Though I've been in a horrible mood this week, I'm pretty pleased with the courses I picked. If all goes according to plan with the waitlists, I'll be taking business law and new business development. New business development basically explores entrepreneurship within companies -- how big old corporations can remain innovative and compete with start-ups in new markets. Since I'm now working for a colossal company that's turning 200 next spring, it seems like it should be useful.
One week of balancing class with the new job finds me coming to terms with the fact that I'm not going to be able to continue my late night shenanigans every night of the week, unless I want to turn myself into the crankiest, run-down bitch in San Francisco. The sad part is that I think the post-class drinks were my favorite part of B-school. Alas, it's time for RB to start acting like a responsible adult.
The recent rough transition to responsible adult has included a lot of business/business casual attire. Seemingly gone are the days of wearing flip flops, jeans, and a "Reading is Sexy" t-shirt to the office. Earlier this week, while out near campus with a bunch of other Haasholes, I was grabbing my bag off a bar stool when I young man (maybe in his early 20s) smiled at me and said, "Don't worry -- we're watching your bag. We're protecting it for you, I swear." I told him I needed my bag because it was time for me to go home. "Aww, don't go!" he says. And at that point in the conversation where it would be commonplace for such a young man to offer to buy me a drink to get me to stay and talk to him, he looks at what I was wearing (white button down shirt with gray stripes, black skirt, heels) and says, "Oh, but I'm sure you have to go to work in the morning." I have never felt so boring and old. Thanks, dude.
Over the next couple months I've got to come up with some gear that is professional and polished, but also sassy. If I'm gonna do this corporate thing, I'm gonna do it with flare.
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