I am totally burnt out. Having worked on this thesis for essentially eight hours a day today, Monday, Sunday, Saturday, and Friday, I am now officially sick of it. Let’s be clear: I don’t think it sucks. I’m just sick of it. I don’t want to edit it anymore. I don’t want to type those edits into my computer anymore. I don’t want to read it anymore. I just want it to be done.
The thing is that I really love my thesis, this chunk of a novel I’ve been working on for years. The characters feel solid to me. The story feels substantial, and real, and uncliched. It’s all been clicking for me lately.
There’s just too much work. Who can reasonably be expected to get through one hundred and seventy-six pages of material in three weeks? And, consider that one of those chapters needs a whole-scale revision and that several others need a whole new scene here or there. This is not just putting in commas, checking the verb tense, and making sure that dialogue is attributed to the right person. This is serious, heavy lifting, and my brain is feeling the strain.
I didn’t even get out of the house today, not even to breathe in the fresh air for a moment. That’s crazy.
So, I’ll keep at it. Tomorrow I don’t work on the thesis, because I’m doing the part-time gig. And there’s a reading I’m planning on going to, as well. Then, on Friday, it’s back to work. Hopefully the day away will recharge me.
If it doesn’t, I just have to remind myself that, one way or another, I’ll be done with this draft a week from now, because that’s when I have to put it in the mail to my advisor.