As I’ve mentioned before; the Husband, like several of our friends, is writing his doctorate dissertation. It is an arduous venture. Sometime this spring, we made a schedule that had the final draft handed in well before Christmas this year. Over the past few months, I’ve recognized that this deadline will not be met, and the latest forecast predicts early spring as a more likely time of deliverance; sometime around the arrival of our friends M&M’s 3rd baby.
I, as several of my friends (including the amazing M.), am getting tired of being the wife of the constant doctorate student, and it’s not the wife but the doctorate element that must expire. This earth-shattering Opus Magnum has to be finished so that we can get on with our lives!
Yesterday the Husband kept talking about his “paper” and having to finish his “paper”, and finally I had to say “honey, it’s a thesis; a doctorate dissertation” whereupon he replied “yeah, yeah, whatever…” obviously trying to play some kind of psychological trick on himself. I have come to the point where I reply to any similar folly with “whatever works for the Husband, as long as it gets written.”
Confounding my apprehension, the Husband showed me this week’s work last night: 17 solid, ready dissertation pages. If he keeps this up, we might just have a Merry Christmas after all.
By Lovain
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