(no subject)
Aug. 6th, 2005 10:54 amToday's mail brought:
* my contributor's copy of The Magazine of Speculative Poetry vol. 7, no. 2.
* a certificate of registration of copyright for my dissertation.
Yes. That dissertation.
heres_luck and I had just been talking about this a few days ago, about dissertations and copyrights and whether one should bother with the extra fee to get the copyright in one's own name. I did, because I am a beady-eyed goblin about that sort of thing, and I remember saying to h.l. that I hadn't heard thing one about it since I deposited back in May of 2004.
Well, now I have, and the official copyright date of my dissertation is April 19, 2005.
This just feels really freaking weird. Because, I mean, I had closure, and now I have more of it, and an excess of closure doesn't seem to result in enhanced feelings of closure and security, but instead a sort of wtf do I do now? It's like when you slam the lid of something extra hard to be sure it latches, and instead of latching, it rebounds into your face.
I'm not quite sure what to do with myself now.
* my contributor's copy of The Magazine of Speculative Poetry vol. 7, no. 2.
* a certificate of registration of copyright for my dissertation.
Yes. That dissertation.
Well, now I have, and the official copyright date of my dissertation is April 19, 2005.
This just feels really freaking weird. Because, I mean, I had closure, and now I have more of it, and an excess of closure doesn't seem to result in enhanced feelings of closure and security, but instead a sort of wtf do I do now? It's like when you slam the lid of something extra hard to be sure it latches, and instead of latching, it rebounds into your face.
I'm not quite sure what to do with myself now.