Well, folks, I am on the mend. My chest is still congested, and I’m still stuffy, but I can think clearly again, and the raging hot/cold spells and torrid nosebleeds are over. At least I can be safe in now assuming that I don’t have some sort of exotic disease in which you loose your life through your nose. At least I no longer see death ahead.
I am also seeing other things in a better perspective.
So what now?
My advisor has had her baby (a boy) and they are both fine- the world goes on. This blessed event also means I am safe from disapproving eyes for a while, as I was unable to even think of my SSHRC proposal over the weekend-from-hell. Now I can sneak a draft off to her sometime this week, and, if it is in place before she recovers from labour, no one is more the wiser. Excellent- the perfect crime. Hee hee.
And now, due to a conference, and thus a cancelled class, I am not expected back on campus for FIVE DAYS!!! What a boon. My Islam prof is off to somewhere, where I hope she is having a lovely time, because these extra days are saving my ass.
So, what to do with these bouts of unexpected luck…
1) Finish new draft of SSHRC and first draft of OGS by, say, Wednesday. Needs to be more specific, it seems, and my first draft “seems very unsure of itself.” Must take assertive pills before attempting re-write- maybe eating a half a raw cow would do. (Yum. Raw meat.)
2) Read everything assigned for next week on Thursday, so I can have at least one week of being on the ball before I die. Uhh, the luxury.
3) Over the weekend, complete a draft of my presentation for October 13th- the infamous Yom Kippur presentation. I need to know enough about the construction of Islam as an anthropological category to pass muster in a class to which I am woefully inadequate. Mmmm. This might be tough. (Today, however, I choose to believe that I am invincible.)
4) Find a brilliant idea for the final paper in the above class, before I am forced to rip out my own heart out of shame- honestly, MA students are whipping my ass. This task will require nothing less than the total and non-refundable dedication of my soul to Satan. Anyone got a pen?
5) Clean my apartment before we contract the Black Death from the parasites growing in my kitchen. (Catherine, does the offer to do dishes still stand? I can FedEx them to you.)
So, I have my work cut out for me.
However, I must thank all that is holy for setting Dr. Duncan in my path. What a saving grace! Respectful, kind and well-humoured, she is a dream come true. (I just finished the first paper of my PhD, and handed it in to her, so I am anxious over how I am returning her kindness. That is, am I treating her as well as she is treating me, or did I snozz up that paper so bad she’ll never speak to me again?) However, today we had a great meeting, and I’m truly in love. What a lady.
Unsure of myself in my new discipline- at a level at which hardly anyone ever chooses a new discipline, I may add- I was beginning to panic over choosing my paper topics. They had to be good. I didn’t want any of these lovely people here shaking their heads and mentioning to each other how cruel they were to let me into a program for which I was so clearly under qualified. I feared the pity and disappointment, and I still do. However, today I met with Dr. Duncan about my topic idea for my methodology class, and she ACTUALLY LIKED IT. Me! The villiage idiot. I made her interested. (Go, me.)
I am planning to work on how we define a scholar as a “Jewish Scholar”, and the political implications of that label for modern Jewish Studies. Does the fact that someone is or is not Jewish mean something for their acceptance in Jewish studies? What makes a Jewish Scholar- or is it just in the name? (Patent pending, so mitts off my idea).
I am super-psyched, and so pleased I did something right. What with that and the Rastafarian presentation, I’m in hog heaven. Two major assignments in one class that I am absolutely wetting myself (in joy) over? What cream.
About that Islam paper, however, I may still have to perform some sort of ritual shame dance… I’ve tried nothing, and I’m all out of ideas.
Well, thank heaven for Dr. Duncan. And for five days in occultation.
Count the blessings- that’s the main thing.
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