I’m yawning at my desk right now, trying to talk myself out of going to get a coffee. I was at work until 11pm last night, working on my dissertation. I’ll most likely be at work late again tonight, working on my dissertation.
The thing is that I am so close, so very close, to being done. I’ve got solid drafts of the first three chapters and have made big progress on the last two. A friend who is a genius with stats is going to help me go over my stats stuff tomorrow and my smarty pants-has-a-PhD husband is going to help me review grammar and flow on Sunday. On Monday the whole kit and caboodle will go to my advisor for review.
If I get a thumbs up from him, I’ll defend next month.
(Please note that this doesn’t mean I’m done. I still have a shit ton of formatting to do, plus preparing my presentation for the defense plus any revisions the committee wants me to make)
(But I am so close. Almost there)
I was thinking last night about how both long and short this experience has been. On the one hand, I’ve been a PhD student for 75% of Evelyn’s life. it feels hard to remember what it was like when I didn’t have a nagging sense of “you should be reading, you should be writing, you should be do school stuff” hanging over my head. I think I’m going to feel actually, physically lighter when this is done.
On the other, if all goes well, I’ll have completed my program- start to finish- in just under three years. That is fast, y’all. It took my almost twice as long to finish my MA degree due to a taking a year off in the middle of it.
I’m feeling like an emotional Ping-Pong ball these days, going back and forth from feeling like “Yes, I’ve got this!” to “OMG, I am never going to finish” to flat our crying about trying to figure out how to run the exact stat I need to run. I’m running on sugar, anxiety, and teeth gritted determination at this point.
But I’m almost there.