The Life of a non-CWIT
I've been a delinquent blogger. Job hunting--the networking, the classified searching, the writing and rewriting of cover letters and resumes--is a full-time job. That combined with my freelance job (proofing a mystery) has left little time for things such as blogging. But I think of you all often! I'm so digging the comments feature. I feel like I'm having a dialogue with everyone. Almost seems like I'm not on a computer sitting in my office in Arlington, but out in the real world communicating with people.
Sunday was the final rush of HBS activities. The day started with the Partner's Brunch. Anyone want to guess what they served at a Partner's Brunch at 11 a.m. on a Sunday. Oh, no, don't be silly. There were no eggs. No, no toast or bacon either. What, are you delusional? Of COURSE there was no coffee or tea. Yikes! These Partners would never make it in Seattle. It was high tea. At 11 a.m. Tiny sandwiches (smoked salmon, at least, and cucumber and chicken salad, with pbj for the kids) with the crusts cut off. Veggies and dips. Pear and guava juice. Scones with whipped cream and strawberries. Iced tea was the only form of caffeine. And teeny little plates. I took three trips through the food line before I was close to sated. I should have known we were in trouble when we drove up and Adam said, "Oh, look, we've entered the land of SUVs and mini-vans." I bonded with the one other woman I found who is not a CWIT (corporate-wife-in-training). The most horrifying thing? The women, who have the same last name as their husbands, who still felt compelled to write on their name tags, "with so-and-so" or "wife of so-and-so" as in "Minnie Mouse, wife of Mickey." You all know what my name tag said right? Everyone now: Jenny Brown.
So, you're probably saying to yourself, it was the last partner's event. Big whoopdeedoo, now you're done. Only... I paid my $125. I know, I know, I'm a masochist. I don't know why I did it, but if nothing else, it should give me great writing material. And besides, maybe there will be one or two non-CWITs in the group. I already got my first invite to a partner's event. A golf outing. Gee, what shall I wear?
That evening was a barbecue, which was fine enough. I realized how Seattle I am when I, a devoted non-vegetarian, pointed out in disgust to Adam that there was no vegetarian option. I think he was equally surprised. But the chicken and burgers were fine, and I'm done with HBS. Oh, well, at least until tomorrow night when we take our boat cruise around Boston.
Sunday was the final rush of HBS activities. The day started with the Partner's Brunch. Anyone want to guess what they served at a Partner's Brunch at 11 a.m. on a Sunday. Oh, no, don't be silly. There were no eggs. No, no toast or bacon either. What, are you delusional? Of COURSE there was no coffee or tea. Yikes! These Partners would never make it in Seattle. It was high tea. At 11 a.m. Tiny sandwiches (smoked salmon, at least, and cucumber and chicken salad, with pbj for the kids) with the crusts cut off. Veggies and dips. Pear and guava juice. Scones with whipped cream and strawberries. Iced tea was the only form of caffeine. And teeny little plates. I took three trips through the food line before I was close to sated. I should have known we were in trouble when we drove up and Adam said, "Oh, look, we've entered the land of SUVs and mini-vans." I bonded with the one other woman I found who is not a CWIT (corporate-wife-in-training). The most horrifying thing? The women, who have the same last name as their husbands, who still felt compelled to write on their name tags, "with so-and-so" or "wife of so-and-so" as in "Minnie Mouse, wife of Mickey." You all know what my name tag said right? Everyone now: Jenny Brown.
So, you're probably saying to yourself, it was the last partner's event. Big whoopdeedoo, now you're done. Only... I paid my $125. I know, I know, I'm a masochist. I don't know why I did it, but if nothing else, it should give me great writing material. And besides, maybe there will be one or two non-CWITs in the group. I already got my first invite to a partner's event. A golf outing. Gee, what shall I wear?
That evening was a barbecue, which was fine enough. I realized how Seattle I am when I, a devoted non-vegetarian, pointed out in disgust to Adam that there was no vegetarian option. I think he was equally surprised. But the chicken and burgers were fine, and I'm done with HBS. Oh, well, at least until tomorrow night when we take our boat cruise around Boston.
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