Losing my shit
So I sent an updated draft to my professor on Sunday night. It is Tuesday, and I haven't heard back from her. I am getting evermore nervous about my shiteous project, especially the fact that my oral examination/defense is a week and a day away. So I shoot her a quick note inquiring after her responses to my updated draft. "Looks great!" was her response. I try to press her for further detail, especially regarding specific sections I was unsure about. "You're done." Is what she says. I don't know whether she even actually read it.
In a moment of blind panic, I call my father-in-law, a professor of microbiology, bawling about how I have no one to read by draft before I have to submit it. He graciously agrees to read my paper. However, he is a DOCTOR, who has worked both as a provost of a university, and for the federal government. I've written a glorified lit review with a miserable excuse for a conclusion - no methodology (which my advisor recommended I omit??) no findings, no real quality or use. And plus, I was crying like a little girl when I asked him to read it. He's going to think I'm an itiot. Better to have someone think you an itiot than send him your crappy paper and remove all doubt...or something like that.
oh well
In a moment of blind panic, I call my father-in-law, a professor of microbiology, bawling about how I have no one to read by draft before I have to submit it. He graciously agrees to read my paper. However, he is a DOCTOR, who has worked both as a provost of a university, and for the federal government. I've written a glorified lit review with a miserable excuse for a conclusion - no methodology (which my advisor recommended I omit??) no findings, no real quality or use. And plus, I was crying like a little girl when I asked him to read it. He's going to think I'm an itiot. Better to have someone think you an itiot than send him your crappy paper and remove all doubt...or something like that.
oh well