I don’t want to run around the world anymore….I think.

In January 2008, I wrote a post ‘The Revolving Door: An Expat’s Life’ and in April 2008 I wrote a post ‘Running Around the World’. The former discusses my twinge of jealousy for those moving to exotic places, what a concept of ‘home’ to me truly is, and how my identity is now comprised of the various cultural attributes I have picked up from places lived and people met. The latter is what the title says. It describes that internal drive that forces me to keep on running even if the destination isn’t always clear. Because running is what I love and it is who I am.

Fast forward a few years. It is now September 30, 2011; 25 days before I turn 30 and I am tired.

This year has been another crazy one, just as they all have been.

January: Spent 2 weeks in Colombia with 30 other MBA classmates exploring this incredibly beautiful country from the mountains, beaches and historical beaches. We hiked, sailed, drank, swam and partied.

February: Real world slams you in the face. Memories of dancing on sailboats are quickly forgotten as we returned to Berkeley and began the intensive intern job search. Topping that off with all the leadership roles you regrettably signed up for and a full class schedule - the stress mounts. Desperate to get away, I booked a last minute trip to London for a long weekend. At SFO, phone rings. Thomson Reuters asks if I can come to NYC next week for a job interview. Sure. I change a few flights, head to London for about 4 nights, fly to NYC Thursday afternoon, check into a hotel, head to the office for drinks and dinner with talent managers and company employees who are watching every move, determining your networking skills and cultural fit. Friday is a  full day of interviews, case study and presentation to management. 5pm  - the 24 hour interview is over and Friday night I head back to San Francisco.

March: Spring Break back to London with a weekend trip to Sevilla, Spain. Why not? My friends needed some sunshine.

April: Actually spent the whole month in Berkeley

May: Move out of my place in Berkeley, pack for India, ship business clothes to NYC and put the rest in storage. Off to India for 3 weeks with 3 other MBA classmates. We were engaged by a non-profit organization to look at how mHealth applications can be used to improve the quality of health care for mother and child in rural parts of India. Conclusion 1: Never give money to non-profit organizations unless you really understand how they are spending it. Conclusion 2: Sometimes the solution is a simple one. Health care would be improved by providing women with iron pills and better nutrition, not spending $2 million on smartphones. Sadly, our client didn't see it that way.

June: 24 hour flight from India and I arrive in NYC on a Saturday. Work at Thomson Reuters in their Media Strategy group starts Monday. I move into a sub-let flat.

July: Working fairly long hours but manage to get a family reunion trip to Long Beach Island, New Jersey and July 4^th trip to Cape Cod. End of July, my sublet ends and I move into a friend’s apartment in the West Village to cat sit.

August: Friend comes back. I sublet another place in West Village, moving everything once again. At the same time, I am moving apartments on the other coast in Berkeley – thank goodness for parents in the area! Friend from London comes to visit, sublet ends, we spend one night in NYC hotel and then instead of going back to California for the first week of school, I head to the Hamptons for the week for a rest – I needed it! August 22^nd I finally move back to California. Flying in and heading straight to class that day. The next couple of weeks are spent getting moved in, getting things out of storage etc. I am so tired of moving!

September: And now here we are and the big question that all MBA students talk about:

Question: What are you going to do when you graduate in May?

Answer: I don’t know. I am tired of packing and unpacking my life. I am tired of running around the world. 

The Blue Bin

I had a trash bin at my cube in my office in New York. It was blue. My cube mate had one as well; his was black. Both bins were placed alongside our cubicle cabinets in the hallway.

Growing up in California, I am a conscious recycler. As such, I only placed paper in my blue bin and threw my trash in the black bin next to my cube mate’s desk.  This went on for almost 2 months until one day I got up to make a copy and walking by my cube mate’s black bin, casually threw some pieces of trash into it.

Walking back, my cube mate, stared at me in horror “It was you!!!!!”  Utterly confused, I asked him to explain why he was upset. Unbeknownst to me, for the past 2 months he had been getting angrier and angrier because someone was using his trash bin. He had been weighing suspects and was trying to concoct all types of schemes to catch the inconsiderate culprit. Considering we had since become friends, he was surprised that it had been me the whole time.

“But blue bins are for recycling. Mine is blue and yours is black” – I said in a matter of fact tone as more and more colleagues who had known about the trash mystery began to circle around.

To this everyone burst out laughing. “We don’t recycle here – this isn’t California.” Lesson learned – but even now I still have trouble throwing trash in a blue bin.