(Before I forget, another savage-minded dissertation icon. Picture courtesy of
jess79 from Once Upon a Time in Mexico, text courtesy of Mstr. Wm. Shakespeare. Juxtaposition courtesy of the eternal mystery that is my brain.)
I am printing out the introduction and first chapter of the Albatross to give to my dissertation director today. 66 pages of text, down from 128. That's sort of appalling and exhilirating at the same time and my god I am so fucking bored of this thing I would rather be jabbing bamboo splinters under my fingernails than work on it for one. More. Goddamn. Minute.
*runs screaming into the night*
*sidles back, sheepishly*
Sorry.
I really am making progress, I think. But if there is a process for which the term "soul-destroying" was invented, it is the process of writing a dissertation.
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I am printing out the introduction and first chapter of the Albatross to give to my dissertation director today. 66 pages of text, down from 128. That's sort of appalling and exhilirating at the same time and my god I am so fucking bored of this thing I would rather be jabbing bamboo splinters under my fingernails than work on it for one. More. Goddamn. Minute.
*runs screaming into the night*
*sidles back, sheepishly*
Sorry.
I really am making progress, I think. But if there is a process for which the term "soul-destroying" was invented, it is the process of writing a dissertation.