Today was a great writing day for me; I credit it to adding cinnamon to my coffee. (Or, possibly, a critical mass of theory reading that started to catalyze last night.) I've written so much now that there's really little else I could say without repeating myself (even more), so the thought arose that there's not much left to do but edit for clarity tomorrow, when I'm fresh, read the last two library books in my possession for any new insights, and then send the diss out to the committee.
Then I got this strange feeling in my stomach, as the thought sank in that, if I wanted to ensure the defense date of my choice, I'd need to email my profs now, ahead of sending the diss. But of course, they'd then want to know when they could expect to see the draft, if I was already trying to schedule things.
So, while I tried to keep my arms steady -- I was shaking -- I emailed them my preferred potential defense dates, and assured them that the draft would be ready by the end of this weekend.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I'm still kind of shaking right now. (You have no idea how hard I had to concentrate to type this!) I'm halfway through my first glass of wine; I expect to have a second before I retire for the evening.
1 year ago