Thursday, March 3, 2011

Perhaps One of the More Creative Reasons for Not Writing One's Thesis

'Twas a rough weekend.  A really, really rough weekend.

On Friday, a chipper little migraine arrived, informed me that he had come to derail my thesis writing, and promptly began drilling a hole in my head.  I countered with some effective meds.  The migraine, stopped in his tracks, was annoyed and sought revenge.  And that, I maintain, is how I managed to burn my hand with boiling water (in other words, I was cooking lunch while medicated).  I thought at first that it was a deep first degree burn, but later examination proves that I actually got a light second on a big section of the back of my left hand.

Needless to say, the pain was excruciating.  And typing was, sadly, not to be.  So that whole weekend, when I could have been furiously typing away at the thesis, I had to instead content myself with reading.  Owing to an accidental overdose of Lidocaine (a burn ointment), I wound up sick all weekend, so reading didn't progress all that far either.  In the end, I divided my weekend between laying in bed with migraines while attempting to read, drifting into fitful naps, vomiting, and trying to research while icing my poor hand.  Fortunately, I have a very sympathetic advisor.

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"Passage—immediate passage! the blood burns in my veins! Away, O soul! hoist instantly the anchor!
Cut the hawsers—haul out—shake out every sail!
Have we not stood here like trees in the ground long enough?
Have we not grovell’d here long enough, eating and drinking like mere brutes?
Have we not darken’d and dazed ourselves with books long enough?

Sail forth! steer for the deep waters only!
Reckless, O soul, exploring, I with thee, and thou with me;
For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared to go, And we will risk the ship, ourselves and all.

O my brave soul!
O farther, farther sail!
O daring joy, but safe! Are they not all the seas of God?
O farther, farther, farther sail!"

~Walt Whitman, "Passage to India"