So one of my bestest friends once appeared in a dream having published her own book. On the cover, a smiling picture of herself, and the title: Born Efficient.
This is my friend who can get shit done. She's got her Ph.D., a great job, two kids, and the love of her life -- and she's not even 40! She works damn hard and manages to be a whole woman and pull the whole thing off with grace.
Recently, I've enlisted her help in staying on my back to get a little shit done in my own life.
She's resorted to bribery. She'll buy me tickets to a concert Sunday, but only if I show "significant" progress on one of my thesis tasks. I'm sweating it! Seriously. It's one thing to put this thing off because I'm working hard at other things. It's another to have to explain to someone else all the reasons why I haven't even started yet. Something's gotta give, and I'm thinking it should be me!
So fuck it. I'm doing my best to get some counting done by Sunday to get those tickets!
But mostly, because it's nice to know that the people around me care enough to whip my butt. And it's also an eye-opener to be reminded that me walking around with this thesis cloud over my head affects those close to me, too.
Sunshine for everyone! Here comes the pain...
One of my committee members is also ponying up. He's sacrificing half a day to sitting down with me and fleshing out the thesis, talking through the logic, and basically talking through the entire thing. Amazing. And so so so so so needed and appreciated.
I was trying to describe the feeling of desperation to finish lately. I said it was like the last few weeks of pregnancy when the discomfort outweighs the fear of the birth, and you're all of a sudden ready to get this thing out of you, no matter what it takes. Life begins AFTER.
Bring it on.
Of course, Ms. Born Efficient and Mother of Two reminded me that that's all well and good, but the pain -- the PAIN -- is not to be minimized. It's gonna hurt every step of the goddamn way.