The Unexpected

    Well, I'm really, really close to finished with the editing. I mean, really close. Naturally, something happened to fuck it all up. I was online on Saturday night, checking something (I think it was when I was unsure about whether to use commas when referring to months and years, i.e. "January, 1943" - you edit your own work for too long and you forget how to write!) and opened my email. Wasn't expecting anything, but that's when it shows up, right?
    A message from my thesis advisor. What the hell?!
    For those of you who might be new to this gig, my thesis advisor is not a communicator. No, that's not right. When I was in grad school, we'd often send 15 or 20 messages back and forth (that's back and forth from the smaller town, where he lived/lives, to the city, where I lived) about stuff we'd discussed in class, music we both liked (or that one of us liked and the other thought was utter crap), books, philosophy, religion, Star Trek (lots about ST: TNG), and beyond. We were friends. I'm overemphasizing this because it made what came later seem all the more strange. When I left that state for this one, I thought that our friendship, and his mentoring, would follow me. We remained in contact, somewhat sporadically, off and on for a few years. Every now and then I'd pop up and restart the thesis process and he'd be just as happy to work with me as ever. But when I stopped writing, he'd stop writing. He never initiated anything.
    Even when it became clear (did it ever, really, to him?) that it was going to take about 8 years for me to finish the damned thesis.
    So I was just working away on the revisions, scrambling to make sense of the committee's less-than-clear instructions, and checked my email. The message from him: "It's the middle of the semester, so the committee's wondering how it's going." Well, that first clause is a direct punch to the face. The second clause is a question. So I answered the question...but not until Sunday evening, when I'd calmed down enough to do so without swearing my fingers to the bone. I explained that chapter 3 was/is more work than expected, and so chapter 5 (directly related in context to chapter 3) is complex, too. But the rest is done. He wrote back almost immediately and was fairly glowing with praise. How wonderful to hear from me, how nice to know that it's going so well, how great that it'll be done soon. Fucker. If he'd written that 6 years ago we wouldn't be in this mess now. Some "advisor", waiting until this point in the process to give me some goddamned feedback.
    So I'm not busting my ass to get done anymore. It'll happen, eh? And if it doesn't, HE can help me deal with that. My new best buddy. Other aspects of my life are littered with enough detritus to make the thesis process seem mild by comparison. More about that later.