my head aches, and a drowsy numbness pains my sense
I always forget, after spending time out of this loop, how peculiar and demanding academic schedules are. It seems impossible that just three months ago I could sit down and spend a few hours translating Latin poetry, when tonight I kept blinking stupidly at it and thumbing through my dictionary. I remember being a freshman in awe of the handful of brilliant Lit. seniors, am I really supposed to be like them now? I hope a few weeks of getting used to things will bring me a little more confidence too.
Starting this thesis feels like a pregnancy, I don't know if I believe just yet that my mind is capable of producing something 120 pages long and fit to be published (at least, that's the dream). I've spent nearly a week rewriting my proposal, what can I say about something not yet written, when I don't even know for sure what I'm using? I've gotten pretty good at rattling off a few-sentences-long explaination: authenticity and self-representation, 19th century novels and the ordinary language method; but going into several pages of particulars is a miserable experience.
But I'm alright, having two wonderful roommates and some splendid friends besides is going to make it easier to adjust to being at Bard without Joel. Even so, it's jarring. The summer wasn't as hard, since Amherst and New Hampshire aren't places I expect him to be. But coming out of class and realizing I was heading for Stone Row made me so sad. And hearing from him that Garry Hagberg wants him to go to England to study Wittgenstein wasn't much better. I'm already getting used to him being on the other side of the country, now I have to contemplate across the Atlantic. On the other hand, Joel in Europe would give me some motivation to look into that English-teaching program in France, which would have the added appeal of letting me put off thoughts of Ph.D. programs for another year. Or maybe we'll both get into U Chicago or Texas, and I'll get to stop fretting.
What I want most of all is to get past this planning stage of things, and to start working. I don't need time for worrying.
Starting this thesis feels like a pregnancy, I don't know if I believe just yet that my mind is capable of producing something 120 pages long and fit to be published (at least, that's the dream). I've spent nearly a week rewriting my proposal, what can I say about something not yet written, when I don't even know for sure what I'm using? I've gotten pretty good at rattling off a few-sentences-long explaination: authenticity and self-representation, 19th century novels and the ordinary language method; but going into several pages of particulars is a miserable experience.
But I'm alright, having two wonderful roommates and some splendid friends besides is going to make it easier to adjust to being at Bard without Joel. Even so, it's jarring. The summer wasn't as hard, since Amherst and New Hampshire aren't places I expect him to be. But coming out of class and realizing I was heading for Stone Row made me so sad. And hearing from him that Garry Hagberg wants him to go to England to study Wittgenstein wasn't much better. I'm already getting used to him being on the other side of the country, now I have to contemplate across the Atlantic. On the other hand, Joel in Europe would give me some motivation to look into that English-teaching program in France, which would have the added appeal of letting me put off thoughts of Ph.D. programs for another year. Or maybe we'll both get into U Chicago or Texas, and I'll get to stop fretting.
What I want most of all is to get past this planning stage of things, and to start working. I don't need time for worrying.