“Ms. MBA, we’re so proud of you!”
“Class of 2011: We did it!”
In my typical pre-flight procrastination routine, I sat in front of my computer hypnotized by my Facebook newsfeed. My half packed suitcase lay open in the middle of the floor, begging me to finish and head out the door. Instead I stayed, entranced by my thoughts of what could have been.
I nearly skipped all the way from the 72nd Street stop to the front door of my new Upper West side abode. It had been three weeks since I signed the lease and I couldn’t wait to buy new furniture and get settled. I couldn’t get the key in fast enough, and with nervous anticipation, I flicked on the lights.
It wasn’t nearly as big as I remembered. The bold blue walls had been replaced with a fresh coat of drab white. Two oversized roaches scurried across the floor to a new hiding place. Out with the final remnants of furniture and its last inhabitant went the remaining breaths of life.
My heart sank. What had I gotten myself into? I sat in the middle of the floor and cried.
“Thank you for the offer of admissions, Linda, but I have decided not to matriculate at Columbia Business School.”
I couldn’t believe those words were coming out of my mouth. For the last two years this is what I had worked for. Even though I had already earned a master’s degree in engineering, I was sure a spot in a top business school was the answer to my problems, my savior from the stress, boredom and torture of work and general uncertainty in life. But after countless cross country trips, too many informational sessions to count, 8 applications, 7 interviews, 6 acceptances and one hefty tuition deposit, I threw it all away.
I had awoken early as usual, showered and ate a filling breakfast. All errands were done and my apartment was spotless. I threw some final items in and zipped up my bag. Passport? Check. Camera and charger? Double check. The essentials were accounted for and I was Tokyo bound.
No MBA appended to my name, but in the same time span it takes to earn one, I had snapped out of my funk and got back on track. I downsized my life and rented out my condo, moved myself cross country from Atlanta to Los Angeles and renewed my commitment to walking the earth, meeting new people and getting into adventures.
As I roam the streets of Shibuya, taking in the foreign sights and sounds, I’m reminded that I made the best decision for me and my life.
Cheers to the next adventure!
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