And the roller coaster of Melanie's thesis-related moodswings continues apace.

[grammargirl]

I'll go into more depth in a later entry about yesterday's T-beast related meltdown. For now, all you need to know is that I woke up this morning, having slept for something like 17 hours of the past 24, feeling shockingly alert and even chipper. I called my advisor, who hadn't gotten yesterday's tear-stained voicemail message, and somehow the words "I'm not going to finish writing my thesis" sounded so horrible in my head that I found myself saying something like "I was so frustrated yesterday that I was at the point of throwing my hands up in defeat," which isn't the same thing at all.

So anyway, we're meeting this afternoon and I can see that the whole stupid cycle is about to start all over again.

I don't even know what I want anymore. I just know that I got my advisor on the phone and suddenly I couldn't stand the idea of throwing all of my hard work, all of her patience, back in her face. I know I can't get this thing done for myself, but maybe I can try to get it done for her.