Frustrations

I am trying very hard to shift my concentration in writing here from my crushing fears for TB to my crushing frustrations and fears in writing my thesis. How's that going for me, you might ask?

Egad.

I am having so much trouble with this thesising thing. It is beyond difficult for me. Why should what is essentially four relatively small papers, all on the generally same theme, be so difficult? I am beginning to wish I were a biology major. Then I could write about the mating habits of flamingos, as a friend of mine is doing. Well, she's writing about something having to do with flamingos, anyway. I wanted something that would be important, something that would be timely, something that would matter.

Well, as they say, be careful what you wish for.

I finished chapter one, and turned it over to my peeps for reading. Turns out it wasn't as spectacular of a showing as I had hoped. As usual, I have a tendancy to try to write everything, rather than one thing. Can I have a hell yeah? How about an editor?

I know where TB gets his issues with perseverance. I have trouble with that too. I think I just want to be excellent at everything I do, and if I have to work harder than I think I *should* be working, then something clearly is wrong with me. And, of course, I give up. This is not something I can give up on, obviously, and I don't *want* to give up. I want to do it perfectly.

Maybe that's my constipation issue with the writing. In the past, I've sat down to write, and had little problem once I got started. And even with my first Chapter One, I felt like it was easy going once I actually got the pump primed. Now I've got Chapter One Again, and it wasn't such easy going, and I'm not really sure that it's any better.

Is it too late to change my major to mathmatics? Physics?

And, of course, the whole idea that this topic is so close to me is difficult. In referring to the media as a tool of the government, am I revealing my horrible bias? I fear that it might come through, just a teensy bit. Is that bad? Good? Indifferent?

I started my master's work by not thinking about my thesis. I was too frightened of it, too blown away at the thought that that was what was waiting for me at the end of the road, to really look at it straight on. I could take tiny peeks, from the corner of my eye, but could never really bring myself to look it straight in the eye, and meet it's gaze, because I knew it could stare me down. I spent quite a lot of nights, sitting with Hon crying and fretting and carrying on that I can't possibly do this! How can I ever even come up with an IDEA for a thesis, much less write one?

That's quite a few nights under the bridge, or something like that, and I don't cry about the process anymore. Maybe I'm too scared of it to cry about it. Maybe I'm beyond crying about it now. Doubtful. Very doubtful. I think that I'm just so paralyzed with fear about this, and about other things in my life, that I can't cry about them now. Maybe later.

One thing is for sure. Since I laid off the nightly news, things have been better for me as far as The Boy is concerned. But I had a minor set back in that arena, and much as the alcoholic falls off the sobriety wagon, I fell off my newsless life wagon. I found myself in the news gutter with Jim Leherer, Keith Olbermann and Arianna Huffington, and let's just say that a life of news sobriety is preferable to more days like the past few. I have found that, much as the alcoholic has to take one day at a time, and not take that first drink, I can't watch that first news roundup. It's just not a good idea for me. So that means that I get to miss most of the Scooter Libby trial. Probably just as well, because it will just piss me off.

So I am struggling with my thesis, struggling with my worry, and just struggling in general. And that frustrates me.