During the 1990s, I enrolled in night school to get an MBA. My dad was pleased because this effort would expand my skill set and hopefully enhance my future career opportunities. My mom was pleased because this effort would expand my dating pool and hopefully enhance my future marriage opportunities.
I graduated three years later (still single – sorry mom), and received a piece of paper that said to the world, “I have smarts! I have skills! I have several thousand dollars in student loan debt!” Along the way, I did learn some useful stuff. Like how to read a financial statement. How to prepare a sales forecast. How to use Deming’s PDSA Cycle to complete process improvements. How to cook the books of a multi-national corporation and retire with a boatload of embezzled funds to an uncharted island somewhere in the Pacific.
Ha, ha! Just kidding about that last one. I actually don’t have a retirement plan at the moment, unless you count the fact that I am thinking about giving up my weekly Starbucks Venti Mocha Frappuccino and using the extra money to buy lottery tickets. And yes, as a matter of fact, I am fully aware that this is a sorry excuse for a retirement plan. I have smarts, remember?
But anyway, over the last few years, I’ve been working on another MBA: Master of Being an Auntie. Brady, my pint-sized teacher, is awesome, the dress code is super casual (goofy socks optional), and I won’t have to go into debt to complete the program. Well, probably not. In addition to tempting me with offerings that cover my usual vices (books and music), Amazon now insists on sending me regular e-mails filled with awesome books and toys that Captain AmeriCute would like. During the holiday season, I pretty much end up eating off of cardboard Prime boxes because I can’t find my dining room table. Continue reading