T-minus one week

Yesterday the movers came. Since the college is paying for the move, I went ahead and let them pack my dishes for me, move my stuff 70 miles to the new apartment, and bring me back the key. It cost a lot, and I tipped them well, but hey, it's only sort of my money. So now I have nothing in my apartment except what can go back to the library or be squashed into my car, and I'm living in the floor of what used to be my living room for a week while I do the final revisions, reference checking, and polishing (please Lord let there be no major problems) of my dissertation. At 2:30 pm on Friday the Thirteenth I will finally, finally be a Philosophiae Doctor. And at about 3:30 I imagine I shall be a Philosophiae Doctor Inebriatus.

This is my campsite.

A futon, a computer, a printer, a lamp on a crate and a pile of books. I swiped a chair and a tiny table from my landlord, so I'd have something to write on.

T'other night I went out and celebrated with the English department's MA class upon their completion of their exam. Good golly I've been here a long time. I took that exam in 1997. Which was 7 years ago. The summer after I got married. My marriage, by the way, lasted exactly to the week as long as my dissertation has taken to write. Just over five years I'll have been a dissertator here. Phew.