Ancrene Wiseass

A would-be medievalist holds forth on academia, teaching, gender politics, blogging, pop culture, critters, and whatever else comes her way.

My Photo
Name:
Location: United States

Yes, this really is yet another blog by a disillusioned grad student. I sympathize, but that's just the way it has to be. For hints as to what my bizarre alias means, click here and here and, if needed, here and here. To get a sense of what I'm up to, feel free to check out the sections called "Toward a Wiseass Creed" and "Showings: Some Introductory Wiseassery" in my main blog's left-hand sidebar. Please be aware that spamming, harassing, or otherwise obnoxious comments will be deleted and traced.

Saturday, April 01, 2006

April Fool

Bleh. Not gonna hide it: I was an absolute wreck for the last day and a half. After suffering what must have been sinus-infection-induced dizzy spells and nausea all day Thursday while racing against the clock to get materials out of the library before they unexpectedly shut down for an entire three-day weekend right before the beginning of the term and having my computer try to quit working--at which point I had a wee anxiety attack--I couldn't sleep at all. So I stayed up all night and finished my grading. Good, yes?

Well, not so much. Because when I finally fell asleep at 9am, I didn't wake up until 4pm. So that's one of three days left to work on the prospectus gone.

I promptly fell into an abject spiral of despair that resulted in spending too much money on a not-quite-rare-enough filet mignon and drinking Scotch (TALISKER!) to forestall an impending crying jag. But I ended up weeping all over long-suffering Boy Roomie, anyway.

Somewhere between the wish to simply wink out of existence and this morning, I thought, "Ah, what the hell. Honestly. Whatever. I seriously give up. This is just not going to be a particularly good prospectus. I am going to stop worrying what other people think about it and work on it until I'm satisfied that I've done all I can possibly do, under the circumstances. Which aren't good. And if anybody complains, I'll just tell them that, if they can do better while combatting a particularly vicious and ill-timed sinus infection, they can go on and do it. Otherwise, they can shut the hell up."

So there. And I'm gonna do it, too.

Okay, well maybe I won't say the last bit quite like that if one of the committee members complains.

Meanwhile, something very odd is going on over at the Making Fiends site. It seems that Amy's left a fiend in charge while she went out of town. I hope it's a short trip . . . .