Scribbles

Not the bedroom type, I wish.  The ones on top of the consultancy pyramid that yell to express their displeasure.

The Steering Committee meeting is occurring right now as I type this.  The first one of our project, it’s like the first midterm, except with larger consequences.  The outcome will decide many things for many people: political jousting among committee members of the operating company, the direction for the remaining 3.5 months of the project, the promotion considerations of consultants and project leader, bonuses and raises, career development of everyone on the team (client and consultants), serious business.  So serious that one can’t smile.

Last night as we finalized the backup slides of the presentation, I got yelled at for smiling.  Technically speaking, the scolding was directed at me “laughing.”  Some background before the climatic vocal spanking: two Sunday’s ago, I left my comfortable apartment in NYC to Munich to work on said critical presentation with the team.  As we labored all week, the partners on the project would give us very direct and insightful input, often interspersed with yelling.  One of the comments involved the representation of the logic flow on one particular slide, with me and partner disagreeing on whether it should be a square or an arrow, purely cosmetic.  We went back and forth but didn’t really come to a conclusion.  Quite frankly, I didn’t care that much, because the content was agreed upon.  On Friday evening, our project leader sent out the entire presentation to the Steering Committee members, for their review before today’s meeting.  Come Monday, I realized that we didn’t incorporate the change and mentioned this.  Both PL and I decided not to change it because we didn’t want to explain during the meeting that no content was changed, merely the shape of the figure surrounding the text.

Fast forward to last night, as I finalized the backup slides (the detailed explanations of the presentation to respond to anticipated questioning), the partner stormed in, pointing emphatically at a printout of the wrong shaped figure.  I explained what happened and reiterated the PL’s reluctance to make changes in the presentation after sending it out.  I made the mistake of not looking contrite enough.  Instead, I represented my argument with a pleasant, semi-smiling (definitely not my “how you doin’” smile) demeanor, nothing rude or improper.  Simply my way of lightening the already high-strung mood.  Oops, big mistake.  “Stop laughing!  This is not a funny manner.  This is very serious business and I am extremely angry!”

Instead of arguing that I wasn’t laughing, I got bailed out by a phone call from the PL, where I promptly requested (and received approval) for the change.  Case closed, whew.  In all fairness, I do like this particular partner a lot.  He’s emotional and passionate and he lets you know how he feels, so there’s no second guessing in if he thinks you’re a performer, or simply an idiot.  And since I know this, I don’t take his screaming too personal.  But I do need to work on my contrite look.

The class mailer has been flying with congrats, reflections, and suggestions for gatherings, all in celebration of our one-year mark post MBA life.  Where did the time go?  It still does feel like just yesterday when we were living the high life and indulging in excessive amounts of fun.  The great thing is, despite being apart and spread all around the world, our bonds keep our friendships afloat.

To celebrate our cozy little network, I'm going to plug a few websites from my friends, where they are putting their energies and careers.  First is FitFiend, an online community based on fitness and health.  Sometimes you need some expert advice, other times you just need someone to kick your butt and take you to yoga practice.  How can you say no to better fitness?  The second site is Edun, an apparel company with a conscience, selling clothing made from Africa, from grower to sewer.  Check out their spiffy site (also logo'ed in my affiliates section) with one of my classmates posing as the male model.  Full disclosure: I take no monetary compensation from either site, although I may be accepting a drink or two from these friends who also happen to be based in NYC

Ah, how life humbles you.  After a seriously long travel and work day yesterday, I woke up early to catch the train into work.  As I walked through the subway station, picking up breakfast, I thought smugly how comfortable I am being in Munich.  Not speaking any German, yet being able to navigate the system with ease, I am truly the international business traveler.  And on top of that, I'm taking public transportation, saving the world from unwarranted carbon emissions and my company from extra expenses.  I even bought a 3-day pass, extra savings!

During this shameless self-congratulatory ego stroking, I noticed the usual electronic boards not displaying any train information.  Hmm… what was going on?  Well, other people were waiting, so it must be a glitch in the system.  Everyone in Munich boasts to me how efficient and on time the trains here are.  They're clean and reliable they claim.  Twenty minutes pass while I study the train schedule, noting something amiss.  Finally a train arrives and I pick up the words “Ostbanhoff”, the other main train hub.  Fair enough, I had to go there anyways, so I could take this one and transfer.  We all get on and it is seriously crowded, Tokyo crowded.  I've had smushed pastries before and I can settle for less pretty breakfast.  At Ostbanhoff, I stroll to the other platform and notice a lot of confusion and still an undecipherable message on display.  I decide to ask. 

“There are strikes going on today.”

Hmm… great.  I leave the station and cab over to work, wasting a big chunk of time and arriving nowhere close to what I wanted.  And to think, I could've just slept in and taxied the whole route.  When you think your God's gift to the world, the powers above, through the ever hard working European work force, will put you in your place.  The lesson is to be humble, accept being a slacker, wake up as late as possible, and just expense the damn cab fare.