This Her Tation

I am in full study-mode these days and the dissertation is taking up all of my time and attention (hyuk! hyuk! hyuk! hyuk! who'll buy THAT?) Ok. Every morning at about nine-thirty (I know!) I plonk out of bed and the tiny-tude of my new room ensures I land in the chair in front of my laptop. With bio-breaks, and brush-breaks, chat-breaks and tea-breaks, all the furious typing for the day happens in semi-awake condition. By the time it is twelve, I am done, and I have a bath, something to eat, and plan a half day of well-earned (hyuk! hyuk! hyuk! hyuk!) fun with wendigo, promising to meet her at three. I promptly fall asleep and then meet her at seven. By twelve, I have irritated her enough with my panicking about the dark for her to see me off at a bus stop. And then I surf idly till I fall asleep at two.
Now this is what you'd call a complete, whole, and healthy plan. Except for the minor detail that I am living here to write my dissertation, and that is getting the teeniest portion of my attention. The bursts of writing are a diarrhoea of simplistic sentences conveying the ideas of a host of people who have had no role in my course of study for the whole year. In fact, I cannot remember most of what I studied all year, if I ever did study. I'm handing in a ten thousand word gossip column to my department and hoping they have flexi-bendy rules regarding the intellectual value of work, and the sense of humor to give me a passing mark. Or maybe I'm going to stop being a lazy bum and start taking this dissertation stuff seriously. (hyuk! hyuk! hyuk! hyuk! who'll buy THAT?)