We went on a family outing to Canary Wharf on the weekend, to check out The Docklands Museum. It ranks in the Top 3 of Worst Family Outings ever. A…
Meri, Meri, quite contreri
We went on a family outing to Canary Wharf on the weekend, to check out The Docklands Museum. It ranks in the Top 3 of Worst Family Outings ever. A…
I got a new phone recently and in the process my podcast app got out of sync. It keeps feeding me episodes from March and April that I’ve already heard,…
This time last year I bought a 5-year-diary on a whim. I thought it was good timing – the baby was about to be born, so if I kept it up I would have a record of the first five years of his or her life, as well as the toddler’s early years.
I like that quote so frequently repeated by productivity gurus: The moment one definitely commits oneself, Providence moves too. Whatever you think you can do, or believe you can do,…
I recently passed my driving theory test – woo! The required reading includes The Highway Code, which can be found here, and I found it so useful I now think everyone should read it, whether they are a motorist or not.
Knowing The Highway Code is obviously helpful for understanding the rules of the road, but if you look closely you can also spot bigger lessons… These are the ones that endeared me to this seminal manifesto of British public behaviour.
Someone in my MBA class told me that I ask good questions at lectures. Emboldened by this lovely compliment I started thinking about what makes a good question, and how to ask better ones. (This is meant to be a bit tongue-in-cheek and I’m not at all implying that I avoid all the pitfalls all of the time.)
I’m a brand-new MBA student at Imperial College Business School. To get in, most MBA schools require a good score in a gruelling test called the GMAT (Graduate Management Admission Test). I too had to take this test, which measures all kinds of critical reasoning as well as verbal and quantitative information processing skills.
My problem was that I was a late applicant in an admissions process which normally takes a year. I had only ten days in which to prepare for the GMAT, and I managed a score of 620. The difference between my first practice test and the final test was pretty stark:
Total score | Quant score | Verbal score | Quant % | Verbal % | |
Practice test (estimated ranges) | 370–470 | 6–18 | 37–39 | 0–6 | 83–89 |
Final test | 620 | 32 | 44 | 24 | 98 |
Contrary to most of the advice I read online, it turns out you don’t need a minimum of three months, a private tutor or to be a maths savant. Here’s what I would say about preparing for the GMAT at short notice.
The inspiration behind this post comes from observing my fiancé. I say this with love: he is someone with a natural sense of entitlement – and I don’t mean in the millennial sense. I mean that he seems to feel entitled to exist and occupy a space in the world, and not ask for permission nor forgiveness for it. You can see this in his body language – for example, the way he stamps his feet coming up the stairs, or the way he belly-laughs at funny things on the internet. When he’s around, you hear it first.
Contrast this with me. My natural instinct is to deflect attention. I’m inclined to walk lightly, close doors gently, speak at the lowest volume that will still allow people to hear me, automatically walk on the edge of the pavement in case somebody wants to pass by, and generally behave as if I’m trying to minimise the signs of my presence.
Lately I’ve become really aware of the ‘minimising’ behaviours and tried a number of experiments to ‘maximise’ my presence, instead, and let me tell you – it’s fun. These are some of my experiments:
As my nearest and dearest can attest, I’ve become obsessed with Gretchen Rubin’s model of dealing with expectation. I like personality tests in general, and this one made such intuitive sense to me when I came across it that I just can’t stop talking about it.