Pass the pipe

I must have the hookup.

I'm so smooth, I didn't even know I was smoking crack. Because, really, there's no other explanation for telling my advisor last Wednesday that I would have a draft to him on Monday.

There have been so many times this weekend that I actually wanted to post something here, but I guilted myself out of it, saying that if I were going to spend time in front of my screen, it had jolly well be moving me towards my DT.* I worked feverishly every day last week, entertained my parents on Saturday, and worked from 9 to midnight on Sunday, except for a three-hour obligatory sanity-saving M*A*S*H break. I worked on Monday all day while I was supposed to be preparing applications. I worked through lunches. I worked for all the times in the last two years that I haven't worked.

And it's crap. It's all crap. Crap filled with fluff. Fluffy crap.

I'll never finish this thing; my advisor will laugh in my face and then turn suddenly serious: "No, really, we can't let you tarnish the good name of our program by bringing this before a defense committee." I'll work and work on it and get to my defense and everything will fall apart because I didn't work enough.

Now that would be a good excuse to get some more crack.

* Damn thesis.