Appalachia Year

Today was the day where the cocktail of harrowing administrative setbacks, stress of this thorny monster-of-a-paper due in just one week's time, and the immutable monthly ebb and flow of stuff in my bloodstream found me in my advisor's office, crying like a baby, wiping snot from my face with my palm in absence of a tissue. Men don't keep tissues in their offices. At least babies are allowed to cry with their whole bodies, howling spasmodically until their needs are met. Us pseudo-adult women, socialized to know shame, are forced to cry in near-silence, chopping up our wavering speech with embarrassing guttural gasps.

Good news though: even if I magnificently botch this paper, even if I don't turn it in at all!, even if I am stuck taking classes in the summer, even if bills seem unpayable - there's not a thing I can fuck up that will keep spring from coming.

Ana drove to Athens tonight and we drank drinks and ate eats and laughed at things on the Internet. You guys, by conservative estimates, I am nearly two-thirds done with graduate school!