Life with an MBA is a series of options. All of a sudden, when you’re short of bread in the house, you’ve run out of resources, eating out at pizza hut is paying for their ad spends, while crackers at Diwali is just plain burning of money. (OK, so the last bit I tend to agree with)
The average conversation runs something like this, “You have to weight the pros and cons before looking into any investment. The long term benefits of spending money in this investment are zilch. Not to mention depreciation. Are you sure you are making an informed decision?” To which I say, “Honey, it’s just a pair of socks! And yes, I need the pair of socks; coz the previous one has holes in them.”
MBAs are a paradox, which has most women dying to unravel ‘em. How anyone with the brains to find a small loophole in a 33 page complexly worded lawyers’ agreement fails to find his one pair of clean shorts in the morning has me at a loss for words. And then there’s the fact that the stock market is child’s play, but re-arranging the closet is a task that is seen as Herculean.
But I must admit life with them is anything but routine, despite their odd behavior and odder life choices…. After all he chose me, didn’t he?