The Not-In-Bschool Blues

So my friend Liz is in her first year of business school, and I am soooo jealous. I keep saying things to my husband like, “I don’t think I really made the most of my b-school experience” and “I wish I had really cherished every moment” and he keeps looking at me like “What is wrong with you?” (knowing full well the total hours I logged at the pool, lying in bed, and otherwise being a drain on the environment). Liz says that at least I’m not poor…but since my husband’s been laid off I am on a Botkier moratorium so I am poor and not in business school!
Anyway, she is going to the same b-school that I went to, except that things over there are way better now. For one, they have more than three women’s stalls in the classroom area (most of my class breaks were spent standing in line hoping to get into the bathroom before class started again). For another, they have now figured out how to properly leverage the “information superhighway” (aka the “internet”). And most importantly, there is a decent salon in town. I know this because one of my b-school classmates, who witnessed my painful assortment of haircuts referred to as “The E.T.” and “The Mushroom”, opened it. Liz went there and got a normal-looking cut and color. I also once got my brows done in town and that result was best described as “Peking Opera.” Having a good salon in town and more than three stalls would have made my b-school experience perfect. My toughest decision of the day was usually when my friend Becky (who also lived next door to me) called and said, “What kind of iced tea should we have at the pool today?” It would turn into a “I don’t know, you decide” / “No, you!” / “No, you!” type thing and would conclude with us poolside. The fact this 2-year vacation is a 20-something’s ticket to a six-figure salary is just incredible.

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