Deadlines Smedlines (Part I)

The deadline for the next portion of my thesis is (or was) today. I made a pretty good effort to meet it ... that is until one of my friends invited me to a local music festival. Yes, it’s quite irresponsible to go to a music festival the day a paper is due. And no, I never would have dreamed of doing such a thing in high school or even college. But in an effort to be at least a little responsible, I did set my alarm for 6 a.m. to finish before the festival.

I did wake up. I did not finish.

I left my friend at the festival about an hour ago. Now, I’m at the loneliest coffee shop in the world trying to pass the time and get a few lines (of my thesis, NOT my blog) written before going to a bar with another one of my friends.

The coffee man (this is an indie place, so he is definitely NOT a barista) has been watching the game with a sigh on his face. Then, when I wasn’t paying attention, he muted it and put on an old Stones CD. The words, “What a drag it is getting old” blasted at me, the aging only customer in the shop. The abrupt change in music had the effect of seeming like it was part of the game. But then it kept going with its creepy minor key and tales of yellow pills, even after the play ended. Classsic rock is normally annoying in the over-played way. But tonight, alone in this desolate, hot, sticky coffee shop, it sounds new again. And scary.

Perhaps I should have heeded the hand-written “CASH ONLY” signs that were never there before and hightailed it to the Starbucks across the street. Instead I pulled out all the cash I had, tossed three ones on the bar and said, “What can I get for two dollars? I wanna tip you one.” Coffee man filled up a mug of black coffee. And here I am, alone with my thesis, the game, and the oddly terrifying sounds of Mick Jagger.

Defeat?

I feel like crying. As you may have noticed from the obnoxious countdown at the top of this page, the deadline to apply for May graduation was yesterday. I did not apply. Defeat. There's always August, but this delay has really kicked the wind out of my gumption.

So today I am trying to rally. I am on campus trying to still finish my corrections on my lit review. It is not going well. And one of my old students--by pure, old-fashioned bad luck--sat down across from me. She is staring at me; I am actively ignoring her.

Gods of thesis-writing, please deliver me from this trial. I beseech you.

(The above picture by Banksy illustrates how I feel today. Does a transition from pie-in-the-face to dead flowers mean that things are getting worse?)

Yet Another All-Nighter

The spirit is (more or less) willing, but the body is weak. Last night, I wimped out. Five hours of sleep does not even count as sacrifice in today's 24-hour society. But tonight, I REFUSE TO SLEEP UNTIL I E-MAIL THE COMPLETED CHAPTER 3 TO MY THESIS ADVISOR!

The only kink in the plan is that I have to go to Traffic Safety School tomorrow at 7:30 am (Fie on you, photo radar!). Now, I'm prepared to go to the stupid class on no sleep (a gangky, unshowered look will probably help me fit in), but it does give me a solid 7:30 a.m. deadline. Will I make it? Heck if I know. Tune in tomorrow for the exciting conclusion of ... Chapter 3 thesis deadline!

PS. This painting is the perfect visual representation of how all-nighters feel. And I'm a horrible person because I forgot the artist, though I'm pretty sure it's Van Gogh. Anybody know?