The paperwhites sitting on our dining room table are in full bloom, pictured here in all their glory earlier this morning.
What a wacky week: overly scheduled, ridiculously demanding, and fraught with insecurities. There wasn't a single day I didn't have at least two meetings and an entire list of to do to be accomplished. I guess that's the key to figuring out this last semester of coursework: how do I manage to finish up my own work while still fulfilling the requirements of my own classes?
I've been stressing out about this more than a bit this week. A friend's dissertation defense, a meeting with possible roomies for the coming year. These are all events that remind me the end of this school year is swiftly coming, a school year in which I imagined I have a major portion of the work done for my dissertation next year. Granted, I'm ahead of the game, but not as far ahead as I would like. I need to find time to do more and do it better. Isn't that what everyone says...
And I freaked out this week because I don't know where that time is going to come from. Do I give up knitting? Blogging? Reading? I get in five minutes here and ten minutes there of these activities, giving me possibly an extra hour a day. But that's the hour of the day that keeps me sane. I don't know where it's going to come from and I spent all Thursday night cleaning. The kitchen at the House of Whelmed has never been more clean.
I know, in my head, it will all get done. I will pull some all-nighters and get. It. Done. But it's crushing at the moment. Every minute of every day is filled with something and while I have nothing against being industrious, I would like some time to breath. Or, at the very least, play with my new set of Sharpies. I'm unsure there is anything as cheerful as new Sharpies.