I suspect that I am boring you all with talk of my thesis. I apologize. Not because I feel I have to, but because I want to. And because I'm more tired of the damn thing than all of you put together. The best part is, I still don't think I've written a single sentence that will withstand the omniscience of my thesis committee.
So, other things I could blog about, in no particular order:
Raj, Ryan, and Sally (real names here, not 'nyms) have all heard back from PhD programs. I am jealous and finding reasons to be home when the mailman comes, answering all phone calls from unidentified callers, and basiscally waiting to tell everyone I have no chance at a future.
Luckily I don't have to tell anyone that (I have no chance of a future), because it is made clear to me every time I walk about campus or talk to Lauren for more than two minutes. Future = babies. Not just one baby. Babies. Stupid Whitney Houston. And apparently, I am devoid of a future until I start reproducing. I'm okay with this.
In other news, an online Poetaster reunion commenced with an email from Tolkien Boy requesting Disney-themed poems. Speaking of selling your soul. . . however, I do have one good line: "bland-faced Disney boys." Now I just need the rest of the poem.
Finally. . . there is no finally. Not yet anyway. I'm going to keep thinking "thesis" and writing poems and blog posts and someday something will be produced. I just hope it's an 80-page paper and not an infant.
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6 comments:
You can always teach other people's children well and let them lead the way, show them all the beauty they possess inside, and all that. Whitney doesn't specify whose children are the future.
In fact, do you want to raise my children and just lend them to me when they're being cute?
I don't know. At this point I think I might settle for an infant.
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I've always wanted an infant with a thesis tatooed upon it so I could witness the development of the thesis in tandem with the growth of the child.
Hey, did you notice the line in my Disney poem about wicked acceptance committees?
Have you seen the movie/read the book "About a Boy"? Your post reminded me of that movie...*snickers*. I love British humor.
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