I am not making this up.
In other news: the software Scrivener has already changed my life. Inside of three hours, I have amassed and compiled an enormous amount of material so that it's all right there, visible, at my fingertips. Hundreds and hundreds of pages.
There are no excuses now. The good news is, I look at all this stuff and I'm really, probably, much farther than I thought. I have already done a fairly large amount of work. I have a few detail things to work out--like the juxtaposition of CDA and CL, and how to use CL for my purposes--if I could find, say, 3 or 4 studies, I'd probably have a fairly good idea of what to do. I'm not sure people have actually done what I'm doing before. Although surely they must have. I'm not THAT special. :-)
I just have to find it. Figure out what it's called, and then locate some stuff as an exemplar.
I'm feeling better . . . a little. Still feel like there's a house sitting on me. Maybe a 10-story apartment building known as "gotta write the diss in 3 months." Except now it's more like 2 1/2. Okay, I can give myself 3 (with two coming weeks completely eaten up by teaching, but hey, it's money!) -- three months, but then I'm really cutting it close. No more than that, or I lose out on the job market for at least 6 more months and maybe a year, and that, ladies and gentleman, is a thought so scary I don't care to contemplate it.
It's okay. I pulled off the C's thing in 3 months, pretty exactly, and that worked okay. I'm a fast writer--once I figure out what it is I want to say, at least.
It's okay, too, if I dot all my i's and cross all my t's and still don't find a good job. I need to know I did everything I could--the rest is out of my control. It's the stuff IN my control I'm more scared of, actually. Scared of screwing it up.
Which is why I'd better get back to work. I may have a fair amount of evening to keep going in, after I break for a dog walk. So I better do it.
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