I turned in The Thesis, as is, to my adviser at 9:17 p.m. on Tuesday.
It was a “directive” from my therapist. To just get The Thesis out into the light of day and for me to quit navel-gazing. She MAY have a point.
I think the draft is crap and that there will be CONSIDERABLE revisions, but dude - it is on my adviser's desk and not mine!!!! It is HIS problem to figure out how to fix that shit. considering he has been totally absent from my thesis journey, I don’t feel too bad about making him earn his paycheck.
I am sooo relaxed right now, let me tell you.
I spent all of Tuesday at the university library, surrounded by young whipper-snappers studying for their Spanish 101 quizzes. I felt old, but thankful I am past those silly early years of a bachelor’s degree. I hauled in all my main sources, I packed a lunch, snacks and dinner, and my laptop. I had on a cute pair of fuschia sweats and cute top, my hair was in a braid. I wore my glasses and didn’t wear any uncomfortable jewelry. I was set for the day.
And it was great. I sat down and just worked away. Tweaked the intro to more closely fit the rest of The Thesis, and wrote the final two chapters. I think having the stress of the quality of the work off of me helped considerably. I just needed to turn in words on paper. The goal was simply to turn the fucker in, come what may. I just worked steadily without anxiety. It was awesome. Now, there is nothing you can say that will convince me that what I turned in is not total shit, but hey, I just don’t care right now.
Then I promptly caught a cold from all the germy whipper-snappers. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to concentrate on not gagging on my menthol throat drop.