Yes, I realize I haven’t updated in a month.
I kept thinking about updating. Because it’s not like I haven’t spewed inconsequential twaddle into the ether before, just for the sake of posting. I felt kind of guilty because of the loyal 100 people who came here week after week, though. Seriously, who are you people? And you did realize I had written nothing new, right?
It is for these people (and not for commenter Stacie, who goes a month without reading sometimes, thank you very much, and then stumbles upon a dry spell and COMMENTS on it. Whatever, Galang. Oh, and see you Saturday for shopping.) that I post this inconsequential twaddle.
I have finished the first draft of my dissertation prospectus. Technically speaking, I sat down and did it in four days last week. Which gives rise to the obvious question, “Why didn’t you just sit down in April and write it?” To which I would reply, “Ah. I choose to do things in the fullness of time.” Or, rather, “Because they kept having Project Runway marathons play over and over. I have priorities, people.” I volunteered to let my classmates tear apart this prospectus at a colloquium in December. Because I value the thoughts and opinions of those fine, insightful people. Because I am a big fan of chariot races.
At this event, I get to speak about my “writing process.” This is the part that I am most anxiously anticipating. Because I intend to give a painstakingly accurate account of my Day as An Academic (TM). It looks like this:
8am Wake up
8:30 Eat peanut butter and jelly sandwich Peter procures for me from school cafeteria.
9:00 Go back to bed
10:00 Surf internet
11:00 Shower and get ready for the day
11:30 Eat lunch
12:00 Surf internet
1:00 Watch HGTV
2:00 Take nap
3:00 Engage in self-loathing for having done nothing.
4:00 Insult the French on the Josh Groban fan club message board
4:15 Open book from 10 page dissertation bibliography
4:20 Go on to internet to research symptom of ailment I think I have.
4:25 Panic about all of the horrible things that can befall me learned on WebMD. Thanks Al Gore, for the Internet.
4:30 Look at book
4:35 Figure I shouldn’t bother, all is vanity, I’M TALKING TO YOU, GORE.
4:40 Research cafeteria menu for the evening meal.
4:50 Read message boards concerning my newly diagnosed condition. Insult the French version of these symptoms.
5:00 Watch Netflix. Loathe myself. (Arguably, I should start renting from SmartFlix, then I could at least learn some sort of skill in this self-loathing time.)
6:00 Peter gets home. I brief him on the dinner options. We go to eat.
7:00 Watch TV
9:00 Open book for dissertation. Write 23 words on paper.
10:00 Go to bed.
I am going to make a PowerPoint (working title: “An Inconvenient Sloth"), a flow-chart handout, and possibly a poster display. I want these people who are in my program to know that their education is probably devalued by the very fact that I am allowed to exist in proximity to their library. And that if I have lasted this long, then they will live long, happy lives as scholars without me as competition for jobs.
This, colleagues, is the message of my life.
Oh, and speaking of writing/self-loathing. The database of “National Novel Writing Month” re-registered me automatically. Which is kind of like a computer just deciding on its own to register you for the Ironman. Your name is on the list, they have a nice Ironman T-shirt for you. But you had no idea that you were entered, and you end up in dead last place without ever having tried to compete in the first place. I laughed at this hearty joke, NaNoWriMo, thought for a day that I might try it, and then realized--wait! I couldn’t possibly fit more procrastination into my busy, busy schedule. I am but flesh and blood.
So there it goes, interested readers, whom I do not know but who are probably not French. This is the epic stuff of adventures. I know it was sorely missed, round the globe.
« ...That's All There Is!
