Here I am in the library, on a Thursday night at 11:18 p.m. I just e-mailed my advisor 14 pages of an introduction ahead of our meeting tomorrow. Let's not talk about why it took me three months to write 14 pages (the last time I gave her something to read—a draft of chapter 4—was back in June). And let's not talk about why, even after this burst of work, my overall diss word count still stands stubbornly at 42,391, defying my plans to acheive 60K by Christmas.
And let's really not talk about what crap the writing is—how it reads exactly like it's something churned out by rote to fill pages. Which is what it is.
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