How is it that this is my final weekend (really final this time) and I still don't know what my thesis statement is? How is it that a chapter I wrote a mere two months ago now seems absolutely baffling in its arguments? There are words in there I don't even understand...how did I know them only eight weeks ago? And, most terrifying of all, how is it that I'm a mere 2,407 words from having my word count met and I'm still as lost as when I started this whole mess on July 1? Is this normal? Will I read this thing two weeks from now, after it has been bound and turned in for scrutiny under my adviser's beady little eye (okay he's got two eyes, neither of which are at all beady) and wonder if I was merely a conduit for some celestial being's thoughts on post-colonialism in Irish advocacy films? Although, 'celestial being' is probably laying it on a bit thick, perhaps scribblings of a demonic troll is closer to the mark.
Additionally, does everyone get a fidgety, open-mouth breather siting directly behind them on their last day of library work? The one who is now fussing with his mechanized music maker (I've given up trying to identify things as ipods, mp3 players, portable cd players or Walkmen...I just don't know anymore). Is he everyone's burden to bear as well?
I wish that buying more crap out of the vending machines didn't mean sacrificing my bus fare home.
Sigh, I hate my thesis and it is no secret that it hates me right back.
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3 comments:
be comforted, you'll pass your thesis on the street in a year's time and neither of you will recognise the other.
So? How does it end?
From what I know of "lit crit" writing, it sounds like you are doing exactly the right thing!
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