'Tis The Season

'Tis the season for deadlines and presentations, as borne out by the presence of many smartly-dressed students in Business School, and the number of people still online (presumably rushing projects, or having supper after their projects) at 2 a.m. in the morning.

Well I've had my fair share of days like these, but with one more important deadline to go, I can now breathe more easily. I hope. There're still the nitty gritty readings, THAT term paper, and interview sessions for SOE, but I guess, the worst is over. The calm before the storm. The lull in between the fighting. Before the final battle.

I've realised that all the reading and researching and listening to academics ranting can change you intellectually and even emotionally. Okay, I'm generalising here, and the following may not apply to our friends in engineering or science because they're pretty much obssessed with numbers and little else most of the time, so there're always exceptions.

For one thing, you start to speak like your profs and lecturers, write like them and even think like them. Well, they're much brighter and can write longer essays than you any time, but the unintended consequence is that you tend to over-trivialise almost every daily phenomenon you can think of.

You start giving names and labelling processes (e.g. cognitive dissonance has become the next fashionable term).

You start wondering why and how things happen they way the do.

And you start to become very long-winded and politically correct in your emails and dealings with others. Not that I haven't been long-winded already. Always have been.

You also start to realise the difference between what is means to be in such an academic environment versus not being in one. Sometimes your friends don't get what you're trying to say, because they aren't in your faculty or not studying in university. And it's not because you're not speaking clearly, but you're talking at too high a level for comprehension. I get that feeling every time I go through my management readings. There in lies the danger of losing touch with reality.

Now I get the divide between the cosmopolitans and heartlanders. But if you fall somewhere in between, like myself, it can get a bit disorientating and confusing sometimes. Now I know why some of our high-brow, fast-track scholars in the government have difficulties connecting with the ground at times.

You know, after my haircut last Saturday, the stylist declared with a sense of satisfaction, "See now you hair looks just like mine!". Erm okay, thanks but no thanks.

And Vivian commented that my handwriting's pretty neat for a guy. I was like. Really. Then I laughed.

So that conversation puts any speculation to rest. But it shouldn't be any of my business really. Then why do I still care so much?