Three Letters That Cost Me Two and a Half Months
Late 2012 was a season of massive change. My wife and I had decided to move our family back to her native Brazil, with her and the kids going ahead while I stayed behind for another year to fund their transition and pay down our US debts. In the middle of this life upheaval, I made what seemed like either the worst or best decision possible: I decided to pursue my PMP certification. Conde Nast, my employer at the time, generously paid for my PMP training. I spent several intensive days in a classroom with a coworker and about twenty other aspiring project managers, absorbing the fundamentals. The instructor was solid, the materials comprehensive, and I left feeling oriented to the challenge ahead. What I didn't fully grasp was that the training was just the beginning. For the next two and a half months, I studied with an intensity I'd never matched before or since. My routine became monastic in its discipline. I'd come home from work, decompress over dinner, then dive into...