Brief Whine

It's under the fold.

Ptichka asked me how I wanted to celebrate landing on Tuesday. We're assuming that Canada is going to welcome my over-educated arse with open arms. In all honesty, I'd like to celebrate by quitting my degree and doing something the thought of which doesn't make me want to vomit. I admitted this dream to Pitchka and then she vetoed it. I suppose living with a depressed and angsty spouse is one thing. Living with a depressed, angsty, and regret-filled spouse is another.

For both our sakes, I'll finish, if only because les boys have promised me a custom tee-shirt that reads "It's Dr. Dyke to You." And I've been promised by le boy who has a "Dr. Faggot to You" tee-shirt already that after the defense the sky is bluer and food tastes better and you look ten years younger and feel ten pounds lighter. Food already tastes pretty good but I could stand to be a bit more rosy-cheeked than I am now.

Unfortunately, the apathy in my office is so thick, you could cut it with a knife. It's tough to finish something that's this hard and about which you care so little. I'm trying to decide if my own personal sisyphean hell would be washing an endless stream of dishes or revising my dissertation. Diss revisions are winning at the moment.

At the end of the day, I suppose, I can only take comfort in the fact that this will all end sme day and in the wisdom of a good friend whom I've been ignoring: Albert Camus.

By the mere activity of consciousness I transform into a rule of life what was an invitation to death -- and I refuse suicide. I know, to be sure, the dull resonance that vibrates throughout these days. Yet I have but a word to say: that it is necessary.

Merci, Albert. What doesn't kill me can only make me stronger, non?


gwensmom said...

Finish the diss. I wanna see you in that t-shirt! Dr. Dyke, hehe

Kathy said...

Does Ptichka get to wear her tshirt that says "My wife finished her dissertation and all I got was this lousy t-shirt"? hahahaha.

I am a college dropout so there's not a lot I know about the internal struggles with getting to that final stages of a dissertation but it seems to me that so many of my friends who have made it to that stage have said the same things-they want to change everything, go down a different path. That feeling should pass.

Odilon said...

Kathy: Ptichka wasn't going to get her own tee-shirt but now she's gunning for one.

Yeah, I'm struggling with accepting that this is it. I keep telling myself the two things that everyone tells you about dissertations: 1. there are two types of disses: defended and incomplete and 2. this is supposed to be the crap first-draft of a good book. I just need to be good enough. Good enough. Good enough.

Jacey said...

Dude, you are good enough...and I think it's about fucking time you realize that.

georgeious said...

two reasons i heart you:

1. use of the word sisyphean. i always use the incorrect "sisyphussean" because i think it sounds more comical. but i also use the "broughten" for comic effect.

2. your upcoming shirt. can we wear our rude shirts out together?