Thursday, August 17, 2006

Night of the writing dead

A sleepless night last night--son ended up in our bed and spent more than an hour poking his fingers in my ear and my wife's nose before falling asleep, our building's alarm went off not quite two hours before the time I usually get up, hard time getting out of bed.

A promise to my supervisor--significant new content and rewrite of several pages by tomorrow. And, oh yeah, I'll fit in a bunch of that studying I need to do too.

The clock ticks on and the little voice in my head: "I didn't commit to a specific number of pages." "How much exactly is 'significant'?" "You have technically rewritten a couple pages--sure only two and they were already the cleanest pages, but that's some rewriting."

9 or 10, I tell myself. 9 or 10 and get them printed off tonight. Then you can go to bed.

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