I don't think I should have to work under these conditions. It's so nice outside that kids aren't out there playing, people aren't out there barbecuing. They have all gone to the lake! I know it! At bar closing time, it's often impossible to find a place to park on my street. Right now, only my big hunkajunk is out there. For goodness sakes, I heard the ice cream man! (He never stops for me, even if I jump up and down and wave money at him.)
All the same, I'm determined to work. Okay, determined is too strong a word. I know I should work so that I can experience the moment of triumph of handing 100 or so pages to my advisor on Monday.
Also, I'm going to Home City (weird to call it home, since I haven't lived there in over ten years, but I was born and raised there) next weekend, so I can count on getting exactly zero time to myself there. SO is going. It might be nice to remember that I'm a human being rather than a Dissertating Machine. Then again, sometimes the drama there makes me crazy. (The clash of their drama with my drama and the story my step-mother feels compelled to trot about her moment of decision to NOT to get a PhD in her beloved major when she encountered a bitter grad student -- not a good scene.) But it will be the first time that the extended family will have met the SO -- the culture clash there should be fascinating. Makes me tired just thinking about it. Then there's the explaining and recounting about Adventure U. (Though I am very excited and a little scared, telling this story gets old.)
So I should work. But it's such a nice day. Of course, Mr. Tabby is sprawled across my arms purring. Seems impossible that I should feel as itchy to go out as I do. I called my favorite Cool and Similarly Neurotic Friend, who has been pinch-hitting as my partner-in-crime since WSF is gone, but I think it's a clash between my slightly extroverted NFP and her more decidedly introverted NFP. (Yes, Myers-Briggs. Laugh if you want to. It helps me cope. Helps me explain myself to myself. Yes, I am that self-involved.) Then again, she does get together with friends more than I do. But she went out last night -- and probably has better things to do than sit with me in a coffeehouse while I write my intro. She's probably at the frigging lake too!
So last night I nearly did an incantation for dissertation be gone, but then I thought better of it. Imagine this: it's 4AM, the cat is happily sleeping, for the first time in months it's hot in the bedroom so you've turned on the ceiling fan which you'll probably not turn off again for the next five months -- and are you sleeping? No. You are tossing and turning. You're possessed, the intro writing itself in your head. You're tired dammit, and your head is spinning. Don't you want to scream dissertation be gone? But. What if it left and didn't come back? So I wrote the section headings for the intro on a post-it and must've finally fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew it was almost noon.
Fascinating life I lead, no? I woke up and started reading posts about working on the dissertation. There is no doubt I'm going to go nuts -- it's just a matter of when, where, and for how long. But I'm going to get my ass out of my apartment and in public where I can't pace and mutter and sit here and then there and then turn on the TV and then turn it off again. In public, I have to appear somewhat normal. I might be the person across the coffeehouse that you suspect is crazy as she is muttering to herself and staring out into space and grunting. I'll know you because you'll be laughing hysterically at my ridiculousness.