So I went to put the finishing touches and conclusion on a chapter of my thesis yesterday. I set aside two hours for the event. And I was all proud of myself for getting to it and not putting it off. Plus I knew this was going to be a spiffy chapter.
Right. Well I read through it and it WAS spiffy. Too spiffy. I didn’t understand some of it. But you wrote it! some of you are saying. Don’t I know it. Crap. I’m actually getting stupider as the days pass. I ended up spending the better part of four hours trying to figure out what the heck I was saying and then said to hell with it and went to bed. Going to bed, by the way, does NOT make the thesis go away. Sigh.
On a lighter note, I love mornings. There I said it and it does not make me a freak. There is something fabulous about first thing in the morning. I love walking to school with Madonna and Alanis blasting in my ears, still smelling like soap from my freezing cold shower (bloody neighbours and their insistence on turning on their shower at the same time…), and I love my coffee people at Just Us who are always so cheerful. I love sitting at my desk in the empty office and reading BBC news stories while eating a blueberry muffin and getting crumbs everywhere which will piss me off later when I want to put a paper on my desk. Contented sigh.