I was the one that jump started discussion of business school among our friends. I worked it in a roundabout fashion, talking about how fun it would be, how it was a great next step even if you didn’t know exactly what you wanted to do, how it provided all of those things that were so hard to grasp in the working world: freedom, prestige, career fluidity. After speaking around it, sounding out the edge of a plan, I began the process strategically. Reaching out to current students at top target schools, attending so many events with other prospective students making slightly competitive but deliberately disarming chit chat and using phrases like “oh, I’m not sure what direction I’m going to go in.” Or “I’m still exploring!”

These events were stuffed to the gills with lukewarm cheese platters, Stella’s wrapped in napkins served by a hotel staff member in an ill-fitting black vest, black collared shirt, and black pants with everyone standing around wearing ill fitting suits looking vaguely uncomfortable.

After building some rapport with the current students and admissions officers I proceeded to hire and admissions consultant. I don’t think I’ve ever spent worse money. The guy I hired, at a jaw dropping $7,500 had a Harvard undergrad degree and a Wharton MBA and promised to help me navigate the opaque process of MBA admissions. For an applicant targeting the top seven schools, spending $7,500 or $10,000 seems like a small price to pay when the difference between getting into Wharton and UNC can mean a salary gap of tens of thousands of dollars. You’re told throughout the process that an MBA is an investment, and through the lens of an investment an MBA consultant seems like a worthwhile one.

From there i struggled away at the GRE. I’m not naturally prone to math, in fact I would debatably describe myself as mathematically challenged. But I chipped away at it for 1 hour each morning and eventually, with immense effort, was able to get a passable math score to be competitive at a top MBA school.

By the time last summer kicked off I was starting to work on my essays and applications all through the lens of “narrative, narrative, narrative.” If getting an MBA is a transformative experience, then jamming your background and experience into a single 250 word essay that cohesively sums up my background proved to be impossible. Truthfully, I’m interested in a whole lot of things but rather than saying “I’m curious about the world” each step I took in my career had to be deliberate, selective, strategic. For 6 schools I refined, and refined and refined to develop the perfect narrative that aligned to the mission and vision of my chosen school’s MBA program.

By this point my $7,500 advisor was proving to be unhelpful. Despite his Ivy League pedigree a closer look at his background showed he worked at Lehman Brothers for about 2 years before successsfully launching a company right before the dot com bubble burst, and had never really hacked things since then. For all of his diplomas he seemed to struggle to do the one thing that most non-MBAs do every day: work.

But still, I chugged along, pulling my much more talented girlfriend in my wake. In September of last year, after applications were due we shifted focus. Instead of writing the theme was now interviewing. Interview prep, interview assignments, the interview. Everything blurred together until I was no longer sure if my carefully constructed narrative for Harvard or MIT was supposed to address the whole person, or if I even had experience as the wise decisive leader I said I aspired to be.

Finally, in October, a period of silence until December. I ended up getting accepted at my top choice program. It appeared, for all intents and purposes, that my carefully planned strategy had worked, and i had managed to succinctly share a narrative in 250 words or less that convinced the admissions committee it was worth it to allow me to pay them $250,000 for a degree.

The wisdom came in fits and spurts over the next 4 months.