So, let’s see — today is what, the 8th? Right. That means that I have just under seven weeks before I need to hand in seven polished preliminary projects, ready for faculty review. Then I get to show up in person two weeks after that, to defend the projects. If I pass, I get to move on to my dissertation proposal.
I guess it really is more of a marathon than a sprint, even now, but it often feels as if I’m having to do both at the same time.
Of the seven projects, three are completed. Two are currently being revised. Two more are in process, not really completed at all yet.
I am making progress, here.
I’d love to be able to drop everything and go soak in a hot tub, though…or sit at the edge of the ocean, or in the heart of a redwood forest, just breathing, just being.
For now, at least, I’ll have to have those experiences in my imagination — and I mean that with at least two different emphases: 1. For now, at least, I’ll have to limit those experiences to my imagination; 2. For now, at least, I must allow myself to have those imaginary experiences.
I’ll add them to my shuffle of inner bedtime stories. Yes, I tell myself bedtime stories. I learned to do that a long time ago. It passes the time while I wait to fall asleep. Some people have the knack of dropping off as soon as their heads hit the pillow, but I’ve never been able to do that. So, I tell myself stories: I’m living in an RV, traveling across the country, visiting and making friends wherever I roam; I’m a tough cookie of an octogenarian, living in a cottage by the sea…there are others, and they all tend to be fairly simple and straightforward. They’re more images than actual stories, I suppose, much of the time.
So, tonight, when my work is done and I’m snuggled into bed, with my sweetie already snoring beside me, I’ll just shut my eyes, take a deep breath, and ease myself into that hot tub.
You know, I’m actually looking forward to it!