Reckoning

September 9, 2007 § 5 Comments

The Hermit

After a spate of September socializing, I’ve decided to stay in tonight.  It is a habit of mine to avoid going out on weekends if at all possible; also, I am flat broke and will be until my student loan comes in.  That, though, is a rant for another day, and when it comes I promise you it will be searing.

Tonight, my apartment is cool and almost eerily quiet.  I managed a few household chores and a bit of research before succumbing to my present state of distracted inertia, which I am further fuelling with a glass of scotch.  I may not go out on weekends but I see no reason not to drink on them, especially when scotch is available.

My thesis proposal is coming along, albeit at the expense of my social life and, at moments, what remains of my psychological well-being.  Slowly, I am reclaiming my identity as a bona fide graduate student, which is a polite way of saying that I am becoming a flaky, neurotic bore.  My lack of financial wherewithal hasn’t helped matters any, nor has my insomnia, which has reached epic proportions.

Worse, Saturn has recently entered Virgo, a transit that is the astrological equivalent of Johnny Rotten dejectedly moaning “No fun” at the Winterland Ballroom.  It is also a transit that veritably screams “FINISH YOUR FUCKING PH.D., ALREADY!“, so it is nothing if not well-timed.

I’ll have more to say about all of this when I am able to replenish my dwindling reserves of scotch; until then, I will take solace from Oso Raro, who assures me that the light at the end of the tunnel is not an oncoming train.  He wouldn’t lie, would he?

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§ 5 Responses to Reckoning

  • mare says:

    Does it whistle?

  • flaneur says:

    Ah, straits. It’s a funny existence, this (and by funny I actually mean frustrating) – moving within and against whims not entirely of our own making. Sometimes (lots of times) I wonder if the trade-off is worth it, but then I couldn’t imagine myself doing anything else (which is a double-edged sword all on its own).

  • Oso Raro says:

    LOL @ whistle! A pretty good question, ultimately, although in my experience most of the time you can’t hear the whistle cause you’ve got the professional lullabies on high volume on your iPod. The train bears down upon us as we do our jerky unattractive dancing, trying to be cool. It’s only when you’re flat as a pancake that you realise “Oh, shit, that was a train!”

    As someone who took nine years (yes, that is 9, nuevo, nuef, neun, negen, ni; however you translate it, a long-ass time) to finish my thesis (or as my department assistant used to write, a little too clever by half, “PhinisheD”), it is a long climb to reach the Valley of the Dolls. Reading and re-reading Jackie Susann is sometimes much more useful than catching up on the latest by Routledge, because once it is all over, you realise that the peak you have been climbing up, inch by inch, just opens up to another range of even-higher peaks. Now you’ll defnitely need a new pair of high heels for those.

    So, what does all this mean? Enjoy the terrasse, work when you can, and learn about yourself. As my girlfriend The Fierceness always said, “By the time you finish a PhD, you know all there is to know about yourself” and I think that is pretty true. And heaven knows, that is work!

    PS I have been known to lie (I am homosexual, after all; the world’s best liars ever, a talent in my book), but usually only to myself.

  • heather says:

    God willing, no, he wouldn’t.

  • Vila H. says:

    Ah, I see my mistake now. No iPod.

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