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I have, more or less, finished the first draft of my thesis.  [cue mild celebration]  It’s even all formatted, which wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped.  Thank goodness my footnotes & bib notes were already ready to go.  Granted, I have a few bibliographic entries to add to my Sources Consulted and one or two footnotes to touch up.  Plus, I have an entire section to write on how Barth connects the imago Dei to the Trinity (which will be done after this draft), and, let’s be honest, my conclusion is nothing to write home about.  But it’s done!

I suppose that means that it’s time for me to start job hunting, like I promised myself.  That said, if you can find me a job that will support myself and two kittens, let me know.  I’m willing to move just about anywhere.  The Midwest would be great.

After my thesis is all the way done, I’m so going to take a break.  Or a trip.  I’m not sure.

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I am sick of my thesis.  I took yesterday off because I couldn’t face it.  Today, I’ve managed to write three pages, but I am having a very hard time even caring anymore.  I’m on the home stretch, but I just want it done.  I want to live a productive, worthwhile life.  I want to do things that matter.  In theory, my thesis is about a topic that matters, but who reads a master’s thesis??  No one.  It’ll be bound and put into my school’s library, but no one is going to read the thing.  It’ll just sit there, collecting dust.  And it’s not even worth reading… it’s just a regurgitation of other people’s more brilliant work.

That said… please don’t let this blog following the heels of yesterday’s blog keep you from watching the video I posted.  Really, watch it.

And on the topic of systems of injustice…  That’s what I want to do–not create more injustice, but work toward eliminating it.  I want to work for a social justice organization.  I mean, in particular, I want to work for World Next Door, but that may not be realistic.  In which case, I am willing to consider other organizations.  :)  But, really, that’s where my heart is: for the oppressed, the outcasts, the poor, the orphans, the widows, those who are in need.

But how do I do any significant work when I feel so insignificant?

I just talked about World Next Door, so they should be fresh on your mind.  About a week ago, the founder, Barry, preached a sermon at his church about systemic injustice.  I finally got a chance to watch it tonight (with my kittens sleeping on my lap), and it was so incredibly encouraging that I just have to share it.  Take the time to watch.  (Original Post Here.)

I thought it would be easier to write my thesis once I got past all the foundational information and to the part I really cared about.  And in the sense that I’m excited to write this stuff, it is easier.  But in the sense that I care about it more and have to make sure to make cogent arguments so that my adviser and eventual oral defense committee don’t tear it apart, it is way harder to write.  I’m halfway panicked, still.  But I’m on page 33, which means I have about 60% done of the minimum page count (roughly 55 pages of writing, since the 60-80 pages includes front & end matter).  And I have my research lined up, ready to access.  More or less.  So really, this should totally work.  I should be able to get twenty-three more pages in the next week.  But that does sound like a lot, doesn’t it?

I really just cannot wait until I’m completely done.

I miss my kittens, but I’m glad I came down here to get work done.  It’s been good to use the library, and it’s been nice to see friends.

Also, I noticed on World Next Door‘s page that they are fundraising in order to create a position for a full time office manager.  I doubt that I’d have the qualifications, and who knows the timeline on this, but you know how much I love them.  If it works at all, whenever it opens up, I’m going to apply.  It never hurts to try.  Love.

[I mean, what I really want to do is just beg Barry (the founder) to create a job for me and hire me.  Any job, so long as it pays me so I can live and pay my student loans.  That should work, right?  Because he and I are totally friends.  Like, you know, on twitter and facebook.  So you know it’s real.]

So… it’s been awhile since I posted.  In light of that, a few bullet point updates:

  • I’m on page 25 of my thesis.  I’m also heading back to school tomorrow for about five or six days in order to use the library and hopefully get the rest of the dang thing written.  First draft is due Oct. 29.  I’m trying not to panic, but trust me, I’m panicking.  I’ve had a twitch in my eye for the last two weeks.  I’ve upped my coffee intake.  My sleep is interrupted (more so than it ought to be).  I keep having the distinct feeling that a) my topic is overdone and redundant; b) my paper goes on tangents that make no sense at all to my actual thesis statement; c) I am going to fail and never graduate.
  • I finished up my two week babysitting stint today.  That paycheck coupled with my refund from CELTA makes me feel rich.  I must resist this feeling, as it is false.
  • I got a kitten friend for Shelby.  Her name is Sophie.  I had a few tense days when Shelby hated her, but it seems like they’re going to work out just fine.  So now it’s Shelby, the gray and black tabby; Sophie, the gray and white tabby; and Percy, the black cat (my sister’s).  Oddly, despite the size differences, they’re all 10 weeks old.  Here’s a picture of the three:

 

So I was downstairs, cleaning out a litter box.  And when I came upstairs to find my kitten, she was nowhere to be seen. My sister’s kitten was hanging out, but no Shelby, which is odd since they’re generally together.  I called her, and she almost always comes when I call, but still no kitten.  I grabbed her bag of treats and crinkled it, and she always comes when she hears the treat bag, but still no kitten.

And then I hear a piteous meow.

I thought she must have been trapped in my mom’s room by accident.  So I opened the door, but no Shelby.

Only one other option comes to mind.  Slightly horrified, I opened the door to our linen closet, which is stuffed full of blankets.

There she is, hanging from a blanket she is apparently trying to climb in order to get on top of something, anything.

She snuck in, the little ninja, when my mom put something away just a bit earlier.

My kitten is a trooper.

1. It is nearly impossible to come home and write my thesis after spending all day with a baby. Panic is setting in.  (But I’m going to my school post baby sitting job for a half a week or a week to use the library and focus on finishing up this paper.)

2. I missed using shampoo too much.  So I went back.  Still sulfate free, of course.  And my hair felt silky and delightful and I thought: Who cares if shampoo free is healthier?  This is better.  And it is.  It is.

3. I want to be single.  The reality of the idea of a relationship makes me realize how much I do not want to be in one.  I don’t want to be tied down.  I cherish my independence and freedom.  I want to get up in the mornings, have a cup, or two, of coffee, enjoy the hilarity of my kitten, all on my own time.  I want to cook whatever food I want, and I want to love it without any dissenting voices.  I want to go on trips or not.  I don’t want the obligation to see someone when I don’t want to see them.  I want to eat ice cream for breakfast on Saturdays (sometimes).  I want to read books until I feel sick.  I want to watch the same movie ten times because I love it that much.  I want to take any job, move to any state.  I want hours by myself every day, without anyone to bother me.

Sometimes I have ideas for blogs, try to write them out, and fail miserably.  Be glad that I often just delete those attempts.

Okay, this is what I want to know: what is it about the concept of going on dates that I hate so much?  Getting to know someone over planned activities shouldn’t be torture, and yet…  No wonder I’m single.

And why do social conventions dictate that meals must be parts of dates?  Why can’t we just skip the whole awkward experience of eating together with someone you barely know?  Eating is personal.  And terrible things can  happen while you’re eating.  And going out to eat is not one of my favourite things anyway.

I seriously have issues.  Obviously.

And, obviously, I have a date tomorrow with the guy I mentioned previously.  At least, I assume it’s a date due to the training I’ve received in the past from all my guy friends: “He does not have to use the word ‘date’ for it to be a date.  The fact that he’s asking you out to engage in a pre-planned activity makes it a date.”  Apparently.

Gah!

My kitten is asleep on my bed (aww), my room is a mess, and I am working on my thesis.  Yes, you heard that right.  I am writing my thesis, and I’m currently up to 13 pages.

Although, I feel as if I am missing out on the point I want to make.  I feel as if I have to talk about so many foundational issues that I am not getting to the  meat of my purpose, and never will get there.  I’m not sure that’s true, but I desperately want to make my point.   I probably feel this way because I am in the midst of the foundation and have yet to get to the application.  I must remember this is okay.  It will happen.  I will not flounder forever in the bogs of boredom.

I joined okcupid again.  And I can’t believe how many guys have messaged me this go-round.  I’m not sure what I’ve done differently, but more than usual have seemed to want to talk to me.  There’s even one I’ve been emailing with that seems like a winner.  But we should remember that even winners turn out to be losers more often than not.

Well, back to the grindstone.  I really don’t have time to waste…