I can already anticipate that chewed-up-and-spit-out feeling I am going to have tomorrow after spending all night working on these so-called Microlessons. They are neither. There are 10 of them, about 4-5 pages each, and I have done only 3 so far, and need to do at least another 4-5 this weekend. It is a very ugly situation I a in, and just thinking about it makes me feel all dried up and desperate. E. is in the kitchen making a cake, oblivious to my deep and utter despair. It is for the best, as I want to spare anyone else even a hint of this torture.
I feel less convinced after meeting with my advisor that a PhD is in the cards for me. Maybe it is that feeling of nausea I get when I think dissertation. I feel queasy and weak-kneed and out of sorts.
I also miss Richmond, and all of my friends there. I haven’t had much time to be homesick, and it seems silly since I am only an hour away, but still, right now, it is there. I can’t imagine being away for another two years and diluting my redneck genes even more.