Day 2 - Life is a Laboratory

For business school, which I am in the midst of wrapping up over the next four months following 2.5 years of diligent study, our Operations class (technically "Sustainable Operations") is using the now-famous (in biz-school circles) business simulations called Littlefield Labs. This web-based simulator has teams compete against each other in a sort of "beer game" environment (they use blood labs, but it's the same concept) to put people in scenarios requiring them to make uninformed (or partially informed) decisions. Over the course of 168 "weeks" (in the sim, one real life hour = one day*), each team attempts to forecast and predict incoming jobs, queue sizes at three stations, and overall output of the system in the form of completed jobs and revenues earned per job.

We've been through one round already. My team came in 15th out of 20 teams; or as I like to call it, finished in the top three quartiles. After some reflection and review in class, the game has been reset with a few addendum items tweaked (inventory control, etc and other exciting business school stuff) to force some new learning on the fly for the second round. We're still flying blind, which is not at all unlike real-world business - or just life in general of the real variety. We'll most likely end up with a small profit or a small loss, but the process will hopefully be both entertaining and educational. I am paying for this experience, after all.

Just like a simulation, we drive our own lives pushing and pulling different controls. We make what we imagine are informed choices understanding the ramifications of our actions and anticipating positive (or sometimes negative) outcomes. Are outcomes different than results? I'm unsure. Regardless this factoid, we expect that we're in control, or if not, that something kind, benevolent and loving is pulling strings and shaping events to lead us to that place that made all the difference.

I like to walk around the neighborhood here in Portland, Oregon USA. The lights inside homes tucked behind landscaped walls and ornamental trees or towering cedar or spruce hint at warmth and love inside. A cat wanders by, whipping its fluffy tail, seeking one more pat on the head - or hand to bite. A dog raises his head on a front porch. New cement has been poured for the sidewalk; first replacement since 1913. The roots break the solid seeming pavement over time, but ninety-nine years isn't too bad of a lifespan, either for concrete or human.

* corrected from "week" 


This post represents another entry on my part in a "40 Days of Writing" project entered into voluntarily and without coercion.