Yeah, I'm getting there. It's crunch time with the dissertation. I've been making a ton of progress, especially collecting data, but now it's time to dive in to writing.
While I love my research, I find it very difficult to sit down and start writing (except in my blog). I always have. Once I do, I'm on a roll. But I go kicking and screaming when it comes to starting the process. I'm sure that surprises you, and it continues to surprise me to this day. I'm in graduate school...I've been in school since I was in kindergarten. I have done a TON of writing. And I love to write. I just hate initiating it.
In a wonderful gem of a book that I've read called "How to Write a Lot," the author, right off the top, debunks the notion of writer's block. How offensive to graduate students and those working in academia--he took our excuse away! "There is no such thing as writer's block," he says. "It's just a writer who's not writing." Hmph. But he's right. Just sit down and write. Without distraction. Well, that's the hard part for me.
Number one, I have two kids. It's summer, so Amelia's home (when she's not at camp). Now, Amelia is nearly invisible here. She does her own thing, usually in her own room. But there's still the occasional "mom" call that needs my attention. Plus, I want to hang out with her when I should be working. But she's very good about reminding me that I better go write.
Then there's Rowan. NOTHING writing-wise gets done with Mr. Rowan around. Daycare has solved that problem. I work all day and then pick him up.
My other distraction was Facebook. Now, I wasn't on it constantly. But when I was having trouble writing, I found myself going there as a diversion. That wastes time. So I have, temporarily, given up Facebook. It kills me because that's how I keep up with everyone. But it's necessary until this dissertation is finished. I had Tim change my password so there's no way for me to log in. My account is still there and open. I will be sharing my blog there, but since I don't log in....if you want to leave a comment (at least one that you want me to see), leave it here on Blogspot instead.
Now, let's talk running. I ran 14 miles yesterday at 5:30 a.m. Then I had a job interview (which included me giving a presentation) right after. The run was fine...it's just so humid that every single run is a slog. I can't go fast. I don't even try. I just get the miles in. I said previously that I like running that time of day because of lack of traffic. Yesterday, for whatever reason, there was a TON of traffic at 5:30. Including one truck that tried to run me off the road. I don't understand people's disdain for runners, walkers, and cyclists. It's a road--all methods of transportation can be used on it. He came pretty close to me, honked at me, and cursed. He could have gotten around me no problem. He was making a statement. I make my statement by continuing to run where I run. I pay taxes for those roads...and I'm going to run on them.
My interview went very well too. I was surprised at how nervous I was about my presentation, but it went very well. And it felt so good to get up there and share what I've worked SO hard on. When you do a dissertation, or any kind of study, you know it inside and out. You live and breathe it. And you forget that other people don't know about it. So I had to take a step back and place myself in that context.
Oh, and it was hot yesterday. I wore my suit for the interview (which thankfully is a skirt and not pants). I first met with them at the nursing school, which is on campus by the union. My presentation was in the Education building, which is totally on the other side of campus. So we had to walk. If I had left my suit jacket on, it would have been soaked. So I took it off. And, by the time we got there, I was visibly wet with sweat. I quickly went to the bathroom and tried to dry off, but I kept sweating. So I gave my presentation with sweat stains. Nothing to be done about it.
Red Eye Relay is tomorrow. Running all night long...
Good luck on the relay, Wendy. Hope you get the cooler weather legs.
ReplyDelete