No rest for the weary.
I will be spending the weekend preparing for my dissertation defense. (Four days and counting . . .) I'll be teaching most of the day Monday, so I can't do it then. I teach again Tuesday morning, so that's out. It's now or never. I'm not really worried, but I want to be prepared. It's important to me to do a good job.
I've decided to go down to Oxford on Tuesday afternoon. My defense is scheduled for Wednesday at 1:30, and I really did not want to have the added stress of worrying about getting caught up in traffic or having a flat tire and ending up late. And I thought a nice calm morning to relax (and pray, and pray, and pray . . .) would be better preparation than a three-and-a-half-hour drive.
A funny thing happened yesterday. I had not even looked at my dissertation in probably at least three weeks, so I sat down to read it through. This is the longest time I've had away from it since I began writing the dissertation, and I had the strangest reaction. It was almost as if I were reading it for the first time. It was something strangely distinct and separate from myself. It was hard to believe that I actually wrote it, that those were my ideas and my thought processes, my arguments.
I hope that muse comes back for a visit on Wednesday.