Goals and Resolutions

Today, I had my first class in Game Theory, where we discussed "Learning Goals" for the class. There is so much meta-cognition these days! My goodness.

Regardless of the corny classroom nomenclature of the day, I do have a few goals for the semester:

1. Spend less money by curbing my Starbucks/Caribou habit to one overpriced coffee beverage per week. I have a mutual fund to establish. Who doesn't want to be a millionaire (corrected for inflation) using index funds? 
2. Intentionally network by scheduling two networking/professional advice conversations per week. I have a small notebook for documenting these incredibly enlightening conversations. I also have a prototype for a business card and a stack of substantive resume paper ready for action. Thank God for same-day printing. Tip of the day: shop around for printing rates. I guarantee that you could save an arm and a leg.
3. Apply for three jobs per week. My internship coordinator has challenged me to raise this number to five. In this economy, I'm up for the challenge. 

I've tallied one job application and two conversations so far this week. The song of the Starbucks siren is not yet strong enough to take me captive to my own indulgence! 

On a broader note, I believe there are three central components to establishing goals for oneself which I used to formulate my goals. After years of short-lived New Year's resolutions, I ask you to consider what is an appropriate goal.

1. Goals ought to be challenging beyond the convenience or difficulty of an ordinary routine. This reasoning assumes that there is diminishing marginal cost of choosing the new habit or activity over what was done previously. Based upon the assumption that it is possible to accomplish this over the course of a few weeks (21 days at the least), the marginal cost of choosing among alternative options approaches zero over time. Yet another assumption is that the initial marginal cost of decision making is positive, indicating that the resolved behavior is counter-intuitive or non-habitual.
2. Goals also ought to be possible, or "plausible" as politicians like to say. Though anyone who has watched 2am infomercials will tell you that miracles happen-typically involving the Bow Flex, some goals are simply unrealistic. If you aren't training with Jillian, Bob, and the gang at the Biggest Loser, the odds are against you that you will turn into a body-builder or supermodel within the next few months. This is not Debby Downer speaking. This is Realist Rita. Even so, microeconomics teaches us that we have asymmetric value functions, meaning that people feel loss or failure more strongly than a gain or a win. Don't set yourself up for failure. Allow yourself to experience the benefits of little wins contributing to your main goal. Failure is NOT fun. If this interests you more, click here. 
3. Goals should be attractive enough to demand your investment. Take ownership of the efforts you are making. Do something you have a passion to do. One word: incentives. 

As for accomplishing these goals, I recommend you visit The Five Minute Economist to see what he has to say. Great material. He mentions StickK, an employer of one of my good friends, Tanner. It's a wonderful concept founded by those brilliant Ivy Leaguers that MBAMama likes to befriend. 

Don't Cry Over Spilled Milk or Wasted Concert Tickets

The other day, the FutureDJ and I were threatened with the negative consequences of our inaction. MBAMama had purchased four tickets to an indie band as per the request of the little broski and myself, with the anticipation that he and I would be bringing a couple friends. Broski's friend bailed and I very quickly discovered that my friends would be back from finals the following week.

Thursday afternoon:
"I'm not really feelin' it," commented Broski.
"Me neither," I answered, hoping first to side with my brother and second to leverage the cumulative past 21 years of semi-responsible oldest sibling cred.
"WHAT? Are you serious? I paid $12 apiece for you to go see this concert and you aren't going? No. You are going and you are paying me back for not following through."

Another day, another economics lesson! Though paid for with a credit card (I'm not opening that can of beans, thank you very much!), the concert tickets were paid for as soon as Mommy dearest clicked the "purchase" button on ticketmaster. At that point, we were technically owners of the tickets, free to use or not use them as we please. This phenomenon is called a sunk cost in economics.

It's also associated with a fallacious perception of waste. I'm sure you've encountered it. Grandma, child of the Great Depression force-feeds the grandkids the last of the leftover mac and cheese to the tune of "waste not, want not." Although Grandma clearly has the agenda of fattening us up, the validity of which I am certain, you don't have to eat the last crusts of mac and cheese. It's already made. It's your choice as to whether you will actually eat it. And don't you bring the "starving children in Africa" into this. We are rational people, here!

Though MBAMama knows about sunk costs, she also knows that self-interested kids can have the propensity to introduce unnecessary spending into the family budget. She knows that when we feel a lightening of our own wallets, incentives really start kicking in. And that corresponds to real internal emotional responses that deepens the brain-grooves of convincing, cajoling, punishing, encouraging, and all the rest that is parenting.

If you want a more in-depth example of sunk costs, check out The Sunk Cost Fallacy by You're Not So Smart. Good stuff.

What did mama say?

Back in high school, MBAMama required that we children set boundaries. Not boundaries in dating, though that probably is applicable to most children who date humans rather than AP textbooks, but boundaries in time management.

What did Mama say: "Choose one activity that you can do really well and stick to it."

What did Mama mean: "Find some way to be the BEST."

In real life, this manifested itself through a series of endeavors that became a series of life lessons in which we as kids learned to overcommit ourselves in order to find out what we really loved. For me, this meant realizing that I wouldn't be an olympic swimmer any time soon. I'm sorry, Michael Phelps, but you will have to find someone else to marry. In order to pursue that dream, I spent an excess of 20 hours per week slaving away in the distance lane-God bless 'em-in order to end up with a permanently damaged shoulder. It wasn't as terrible as all that sad and grossly exaggerated description, but in some ways, I did waste my time with things that I wasn't that good at doing.

Perhaps the Doctor said it better: "Do something you love. Go to work and be at play. Find your passion. If you can do that, then it's never 'work.'"

So, here is the transformation that the EconGirl underwent:

What did I start doing in high school? Forensics, Latin Club, Fall Play, Model United Nations, Orchestra, Swimming, Crew, AP classes, and friendships on the side.

What did I end up doing in high school? Forensics, On-camera performance/production, AP classes, and friendships on the side.

Almost as naturally as spring steps back to be replaced by summer, my overcommitment became very fortunately unsustainable. I figured out that I didn't want to do it all. I couldn't do it all. I learned that in many of these activities, I hadn't really liked what I was doing, and I didn't miss it when I stopped. I learned not to be afraid of the less resume-worthy activities. I learned to play.

Even as a college junior, I'm still working on figuring out what MBAMama really meant sometimes, but I caught on fast with this one.