The Thesis is becoming concretely terrifying now. I alternate between feeling grimly hopeful that I can finish it in time and blind panic over how little time I have left. This latter is usually accompanied by feelings of black self-loathing for having let things get to this point. What have I spent the last month/two months/five months doing? And if I've done nothing up to this point what reason do I have to think that things will magically improve? I'm panicking a little even as I write this. But I keep ending up at: I have no choice. I've got to finish. Even if this is the sorriest, shortest, most incoherent thesis ever to hit a committee, I've got to hand SOMETHING in. I've got to get done. Not just because of the baby (although it would sure be nice to be done with it by the time that happens) but because I've pretty much stacked all our cards on getting accepted and funded somewhere fall. Which can't, obviously, happen if I haven't finished my degree here by then.

And there's also just being disappointed with myself. Seriously. I KNOW BETTER. That's the worst of it. I know better.

Anyway, that's that. The good news is that it looks like we will have a buyer for at least some of our furniture, come summer/moving time. Thank God...I am spared at least from having to parcel EVERYTHING WE OWN off on Craigslist, piece by piece. Now it will just be half of everything we own. Hah. If anyone wants anything in my apartment: please notify me. I'm only half joking. On a related note, I need those people from Hoarders to come go through my stuff/fix my life.