Keep up (late publish)

It is hard to keep up with all that is going on. Between buying a house overseas and moving house in London, even after having already decided on both, is practically 200% capacity. When you add the health layer between the scare from my bigsis, and the multiple concerns with what must be the disease of the century hitting different members of the family, the overload alert is already high. And then you add yourself and all that over-work does to you, physically and mentally, and the bar is too high. Never Mind adding normal life things.

It is hard to keep up, as i gets to a point where it is no longer personal choice but ongoing things life throws at you. I use my 'busyness' with the way I chose to lead life and do many things. Now I long for the day when I can make that an excuse again!

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Time is what makes us different

I heard what is likely to become one of my top 3 favourite quotes on a podcast on Friday. "Time is the only real democratic asset. We are all awarded the same time, it is what we do with it that distinguishes us". Now, I recognise that most of us need to work with survive and that is not democratic throughout. But on an equal opportunity basis, this is an interesting way of putting it. For many years I did not understand why MS thought my resume was so interesting. In fact, they chased me during the entire recruitment process, even though I had no idea of moving to London or Finance. I wanted to be a consultant and stay in Lisbon forever. But traditional consultants in Portugal saw nothing in me, and MS did not let me go. When I started screening resumes and hiring people a couple of years later is when I understood why I was different. TIME. I was truly different about what I did with my time. Not necessarily the basics - choice of degree or anything. But really ...

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HBS Reunion (a year ahead of time). A world of opportunity

I sit in a Spangler couch. ‘It looks like an expensive countryside hotel lounge’ my sister said when she first came to visit. It is all that except for the hotel part. Unbelievably comfortable for a solitude moment or a chat around a coffee table. Designed for both. I sit inside as Boston weather sticks to its reputation. 26 degrees for the 3rd day but rain has hit amidst the sun. Everyone is quick to reallocate. It is na odd environment, one where I am an outsider. It is not my reunion after all. And amongst all my strong interpersonal skills, I am still an introvert, which most people don’t recognise as truth (incl B really). Large social gatherings with people I don’t know get me exhausted. When I started going out with B, he was already out of the section ‘cult’ and I was full on my own cult. Our friends intersected in the international crowd and that was sufficient. And barely noticeable. But as I am here, with no offence, I belong nowhere. I am not in reunion but I ...

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