Life is Short, but Sweet for Certain.: My Encroaching Reality

I tried writing yesterday. I was in a cafe with my Ernest Hemingway accessory* beside me, which seemed the perfect setting. Instead, I kept imagining my life in a Bordeaux apartment, sitting on my terrace overlooking the quaint streets. I would take up casual smoking and look classy doing it, pass the mornings writing and afternoons painting. I would obviously acquire the skill of painting. I would meet my Monsieur while sipping a martini in a dimly lit bar that smelled of elegant cologne and smoked whisky. We would spend weekends in Paris, summer in a chateau, live in the countryside. Our two children, Noemi and Auguste would frolic in the field as I drank wine and prepared a meal of fine cheese, bread, and duck breast. Despite my steady consumption of carbs, my thighs would shrink, and I may or may not stop shaving. I'm not sure if French women shave.

Alright. Snap out of it, Anna. Forgive my romantic fantasies, but when this was my view, I couldn’t help myself.

Sitting in Chuck De'Gaul airport, I am a nine hour flight away from reality. Since I’m not sprinting to my gate as I usually am at this airport, now seems the perfect time to reflect briefly on the late fall/winter/spring/summer of Anna* and look forward to the next adventure.

I started working at age fourteen, spent summers juggling two jobs and babysitting, pulled weekend doubles at the Cheesecake Factory throughout college, and served part time in addition to full time employment. So the past nine months, I rested. I soaked in the goodness of friends and family, established myself as the favorite aunt, and celebrated marriages. I became domestic, mowed a lawn, helped my sister move, painted a house*. I temporarily satiated my travel bug, upped my country count to thirty, enjoyed delicious cuisine, made new friends around the world. I laughed a lot, cried a little, considered where I want to be after graduate school.

I even read. From Phil Knight's - my spirit entrepreneur - biography to the Principles of Economics to America's Bitter Pill, the less than riveting tale of Obamacare's bureaucratic journey that confirmed I have no desire to be in politics, I managed to gain a little knowledge.

And my biggest accomplishment by far: helping the Cleveland Cavaliers win the NBA title with years of gritty optimism, prayers, and attendance of game six, shouting from the rafters.

With such a full year, it’s hard to imagine I still have more to accomplish. The last three weeks have been a whirlwind of new faces, preparation for the months to come, and cultural adventure. I could say a lot about particulars, but my main conclusion is this: Ross does a great job of 1) giving you opportunity to build relationships before class begins and 2) choosing people who are smart, humble, and authentic. I expected to enjoy most people, but even so, we are in business school, and there are investment bankers, so I assumed there would be a greater percentage of idiots. But even the investment bankers are nice – at least for now. If the first year is as intense as they say*, I am glad I will be going through it with these classmates.

Before we embark - I'm told it's good to write goals; how much better to share them with the ten people reading my blog? With that, here are some overarching goals for the next 21 months that I reserve the right to change.

Lead a club.

Find a mentor. Admittedly, I always think of Seinfeld and the mentor/protege relationship, but I hear mentors can offer wisdom, and I love wisdom. Plus, you sound intelligent when you start a sentence with, "I was talking to my mentor the other day," so I'm taking applications. At the very least, I'll take one trip to the career advising office.

Do something completely out of my comfort zone - which is difficult because at this point, my comfort zone is really large.

Get involved with a church. I was scanning some online, and one has holy yoga - I have a feeling that's not going to be the one I choose.

Make a couple friends that would invite me to their wedding. Not too many, because weddings get expensive, but a couple.

Squat 190 pounds and do a muscle up. Because I need fitness goals, too.

Where do I want to be at the end of 21 months? I want to be near family, marketing something I love, specifically sports but food, drink and travel are also viable options. I still have a desire to create, and I want to be in a position of influence with leaders who trust their employees. I want to touch people. What does that look like? I'll let you know when I find out, and I am well aware it could be nothing as I imagine it.

Most importantly, trust that in the end, I will be where God wants me to be. The chicken scratch on my chalkboard reminds me, "God is wholly good. Trust Him now with everything. Show me where to walk, for I give my soul to you." Holding tightly to that belief, and taking an occasional deep breath when I get overwhelmed, the rest will fall into place.

So as the French say, "Allez le blue!"

* Because let's be honest, it's just there so I appear well read and intelligent.
* I know, I should have created a better name for it.
* By painting a house, I mean painting a room, but house sounds better.
* Still doubt it.

Some of my favorite pics from the last nine months.