Andare, Partire, Tornare

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I might as well be typing this out with my feet while smoking dope and drinking tequila

I have put in a valiant effort and extended my five pages of thesis to...seven pages. It sounds pathetic (and it is, actually) but that doesn't represent the solid hour and a half I spent just tweaking the introductory paragraphs and thesis sentence.

God, my writing skills have gotten beyond rusty. They're coated in barnacles. What's most frustrating is that I had to open up a nice, basic, hand-holding website that Dartmouth runs so that I could look at their "thesis sentence checklist" and see how mine was holding up. And you know what? It hardly did. I rewrote that sucker twelve times and I'm not sure I'm happy with it now. Part of my problem is that I'm writing without having all my research done, but if I wait until I have read every book I need to, I'll be eighty-five and drooling into a spitcup, still without a word written. Being without my real library sucks - GMU doesn't have a masters program in Art History, so their library is very limited. I need to keep bugging Cherbear to ILL things for me, which sucks for both of us - her because it takes up her already scarce free time, and me because I have to wait for the book.

God, god, god. It's so bad, people. I'm tempted to post it here so people can point and laugh.

1:40 a.m. - 2004-08-13

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