I went home and wrote most of last night. I was in bed by 3, but barely slept anyway. The levels of my discontentments rise. As my advisor continues to battle and die from cancer, I’m being asked to race forward because if he ends up unable to advise me much further, it’ll be catastrophic for my dissertation. I’ve barely formed a committee and he’s my biggest advocate and the only one in my department who understands what I’m trying to do (and supports it).

I envy my classmates who don’t also have full time jobs. Trying to do important scholarship in one’s “free time” after 8-10 hour work days is hard. I can’t force the right frame of mind to get clear and deep in my writing, despite the fact that I have so few options these days.

I wish I could retreat into a cabin with a big fireplace over the winter and just focus on my dissertation alone. I need, *need* to get this done. It’s no longer a great desire or a want or wish.

I need to finish it soon or I’m fucked.