And this is what I'm feeling right about now. See, George Bailey is *supposed* to be with Mary. We just know it. We know he has a purpose and that something bigger than him has vision that he can't even see. But he's fought against it and tried a dozen other things and so when he's finally where he's supposed to be...well, I guess it still smells like pine needles or whatever.
I'm not fighting against anything, but I am in a season of life where it's all so busy. It's almost over. I can feel my subconscious hyperventilating subsiding a little. The great thing about grad school as a highly motivated overachiever is that I devote myself to what I'm doing and insist on exacting standards of quality from what I'm doing. This is also the terrible, horrible thing about grad school as a highly motivated overachiever, and the reason that other areas of my life--areas that make me a happy human person--have suffered.
Like writing. I did zipsquilch this fall. Not entirely true--I did some, here and there, but the momentum I could establish was quickly subsumed by readings and papers and teaching. Then the semester break happened, and despite every intention I had to work on my thesis, I worked on something else instead.
I love the smell of pine needles.
It felt right to devote a ton of time to a draft that's been sitting...waiting...every so patient, ever so Mary Hatch. There's light at the end of the semester, and though I expect the midpoint of this semester--with thesis revisions, portfolios, and a myriad requirements--to be as bad or worse than the fall, I'm looking forward to a better balance after that.