The Tunnel in Spring
I am nearing the end of a tunnel, the awesome and lonely tunnel of thesis deadlines. In this tunnel I slept very little, talked to myself a great deal, and found scholarly articles—stacked on every available surface—began breeding and giving birth to yet more scholarly articles. I would occasionally look up, not be able to remember what day it was or the last time I washed my hair, say “hm,” and get back to work. I dreamt about my thesis by night, and walked through the streets with a huge clipboard of pages to edit, attracting curious stares (or maybe it was the hair).
It was not uncommon to wake in the middle of a sentence, roll over, find my computer (which slept beside me, like a very boring and sanitary pet), and keep writing.
I am now nearing the end of this tunnel and found myself with a few hours yesterday between submitting the final draft to my advisors and receiving their benediction. In moments like this we learn a lot about our priorities. I did not get a much-needed haircut, read the newspapers that have been stacking up like a fire hazard, or do core strengthening. I did buy seven truffles and a seaweed salad, and write a few very salty reviews on Netflix.