No, I Didn't Expire from a Thesis Related Illness.
Although it was a close call.
I managed to complete the Beastis. I wrestled that fucker to the ground and kicked it in the nuts. It was, sadly, a very anti-climactic end to something that has claimed such a huge aspect of my life and being for so long. After I reached the end of my edits, and defended my thesis (it's really more of a discussion than a defense), I made a few more edits and then printed it all out in final. This took probably a week or so (the time is hazy now), and I went through more paper than I like to admit. Al Gore would seriously want to break my arm. But I recycle.
I turned my thesis in to the Graduate School, and the gentleman whose job it is to make sure that our table of contents jibes with our thesis content and whatnot looked it over and declared it DONE.
No angels sung. No light came from above to shine upon me. None of my friends were sitting with me, cheering me on (just as I had not been with them, either, when they finished up). It was just me and Marvin, sitting in his cluttered office, surrounded by theses and dissertations, stacked in boxes awaiting shipping to the binder. I paid my money and I walked out.
What was I expecting? I don't know. Something else. Something more definitive, more final, more...LOUDER. Brighter, maybe. Sheesh. What did I want, a marching band? A red carpet? Sometimes I really don't understand myself.
But as it's gone now, I have been able to say that I have finished my thesis, even if I don't particularly like the end result, nor do I feel particularly proud of the end result. But I am very proud of having worked as hard as I did, and having made the mistakes that I made - because those mistakes were learned from, and the end result is that I will be receiving a diploma, and it will go on the wall, and it will say that I DID THIS. I know that pride is a deadly sin. But my pride is also in my friends, and in my family, and in my professors, who guided me and clubbed me, and beat me within an inch of my life to get me to do this.
I start instructing on Monday - two face to face classes, and one online. I am nervous, and have alternate episodes of butterflies and exhilaration. I had to take some time off, because it was just so exhausting this last year or so, and so I am not enrolling in classes for the fall. I'm applying to some other schools, mostly for shits and grins, as Hon says, because I really never considered anywhere other than Small Hot State U. Wouldn't it be a hoot if I got into Very Large, Very Prestigious, Very Expensive Private U.?
I managed to complete the Beastis. I wrestled that fucker to the ground and kicked it in the nuts. It was, sadly, a very anti-climactic end to something that has claimed such a huge aspect of my life and being for so long. After I reached the end of my edits, and defended my thesis (it's really more of a discussion than a defense), I made a few more edits and then printed it all out in final. This took probably a week or so (the time is hazy now), and I went through more paper than I like to admit. Al Gore would seriously want to break my arm. But I recycle.
I turned my thesis in to the Graduate School, and the gentleman whose job it is to make sure that our table of contents jibes with our thesis content and whatnot looked it over and declared it DONE.
No angels sung. No light came from above to shine upon me. None of my friends were sitting with me, cheering me on (just as I had not been with them, either, when they finished up). It was just me and Marvin, sitting in his cluttered office, surrounded by theses and dissertations, stacked in boxes awaiting shipping to the binder. I paid my money and I walked out.
What was I expecting? I don't know. Something else. Something more definitive, more final, more...LOUDER. Brighter, maybe. Sheesh. What did I want, a marching band? A red carpet? Sometimes I really don't understand myself.
But as it's gone now, I have been able to say that I have finished my thesis, even if I don't particularly like the end result, nor do I feel particularly proud of the end result. But I am very proud of having worked as hard as I did, and having made the mistakes that I made - because those mistakes were learned from, and the end result is that I will be receiving a diploma, and it will go on the wall, and it will say that I DID THIS. I know that pride is a deadly sin. But my pride is also in my friends, and in my family, and in my professors, who guided me and clubbed me, and beat me within an inch of my life to get me to do this.
I start instructing on Monday - two face to face classes, and one online. I am nervous, and have alternate episodes of butterflies and exhilaration. I had to take some time off, because it was just so exhausting this last year or so, and so I am not enrolling in classes for the fall. I'm applying to some other schools, mostly for shits and grins, as Hon says, because I really never considered anywhere other than Small Hot State U. Wouldn't it be a hoot if I got into Very Large, Very Prestigious, Very Expensive Private U.?
posted by peacemongermom | 6:06 PM
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