watson goes places

8

Poor reactions to Sherlock’s writings

And one more:

2

Dear everyone,

Thank you all for being warm and supportive about our impending move; it means much to me. I love my life here, but it is hard to fight what is shaping up to be a serious case of senioritis and spring fever. Being an adult means no phoning-it-in. Search committees and space planning decisions are going to linger – unlike the AP Environmental Science and Psychology exams I didn’t study for (sorry, mom).

Also because, oh, hey. My MA defense is in two weeks. Are my revisions done? Have I written my critical preface?

No…not so much.

This is the home stretch of my student life. Barring some bout of insanity,  this is seriously, seriously going to be my last degree. It’s a good one, and it matters. I am one defense and two courses away from the difference between Instructor and Assistant Professor ranks. I am one 50-page portfolio and two 20-page papers away from not being in school. I am almost almost done, but I am also binge-watching Once Upon a Time while stifling the urge to smack every character for using the phrase “true love” for the seven hundredth time and playing a lot of “quick break!” Candy Crush. The apples in my fridge are outnumbered by Red Bull. I bring up antimony way more than antimony needs to be brought up.

Which is to say, it’s getting weird and bleak. In the meantime, here is a picture from last week of Watson trying to pack himself. Oh, I wish, little buddy. I wish I could pack us both.