This weekend I began a part-time, French MBA program at the University of Ottawa. This is the sort of thing I never imagined myself doing but alas that is life, and already I am drawing profit and energy from the lessons - including the revelation that I have near non-existent emotional intelligence (but apparently my girlfriend could've told me that for free).
For some reason I feel myself lapsing into a sarcastic tone in this post, but that is probably because the classes and the group work require some degree of seriousness - as in, "serious business" - and this is the first chance I have had to write freely and with pleasure and, well, to be honest, in English in several days. Actually, that is a lie, because I have also written some fragments of fiction and those in English, too; but they too have been in this silly jocular tone that abhors commas and oh hell get off of it would you, this is my blog and I'll do what I like.
No, but seriously. Let's be serious. I see myself drawing massive profit and, indeed, enjoyment from the program. Not only have a mere handful of classes demonstrated how much I have to learn and indeed how much I can learn about myself, others, and various managerial operations; and not only has my French jumped (at least from my perspective) a level of some sort or other in just a few days of exposure to new vocabulary, people, and situations; but it's also terribly engaging and demanding and thrilling.
Something I've come to realize about what writing means to me is that to some degree or other it's just an energizing activity, a sheer-activity with obvious and clear goals and ambitions. Write, revise, submit, publish, profit: that is the writing project I have pursued in a nutshell. And that is kind of fantastic because I have a fair amount of free time, and I like creative pursuits but I also like seeing things amount, which is to say, pile up in their grandeur. In a certain sense, writing is really just me acting like a dragon: making my hoard.
In other words, there is to some degree or other (man I keep saying why do I keep saying that) a risk that my MBA will push my writing to the side, because it fulfills more or less the exact same need. Granted, my day job also fulfills those needs for projects and the gradual build-up of greatness (both for myself and for the program I support); but I think it's just an aspect of my personality that I need to be project-oriented even when I'm not at work. Anyway, to return to the point at hand, that the MBA may at some moments supercede my writing is okay, because my writing will in turn push back and scream and holler. There may even be tears involved. There might just be some blood.
I think more than anything else it will inevitably change what and how I write because in two years I will be a very different person. At the moment I've taken a turn, as previously mentioned, towards writing fragments, and writing fragments in a hilarious and convoluted language, which is all incredibly fun and making me wonder why I was trying to use the "correct elements of story" or whatever lame-wad concept I was proceeding with for awhile (the answer being that lameness produces pretty effective stories but hey why don't you shaddap). The certain thing is that they will without doubt earn me no coin.
But anyway yes that is all. If you didn't watch that YouTube clip above go back and watch it because it is hilarious and it is the only worthwhile thing is the blog post you fool.