I think that part of my brain that handles writing is dysfunctional. Yesterday I had my advisor a chapter, all proud of myself, 45 pages of neatly formatted text and figures. I’d given it a screen edit that morning just to be sure.
During choir practice I get a phone call on my cell. It’s my boss telling me that he could help me more if I would write in “English.” “Fix it up and THEN I’ll take a look at it.” I has upset, left practice early, and rushed home to edit a printout. There are so many stupid mistakes that I trashed the printout and started a screen edit. Did that until I collapsed last night and still have editing to do this morning.
My friend Mario directed me to a website of a guy who finished his PhD recently. I’m stealing his graphic because it’s close to how I feel right now:
I’m taking a break tonight to go to a wine tasting dinner with a friend. I just hope that I am reasonable company for her. She’s thinking about doing a PhD herself, I’ll try and avoid giving her any “advise” because it will give both of us indigestion.
