At the beginning of the semester, I was all over this thesis thing. I had a tentative bibliography made up on Excel where I could check when I’d read and notated; I worked
kind of really hard on the proposal; I was going to start writing in November; I was golden. I had visions of other people quoting me in their future scholarly work (“Of course, we would not have that interpretation of that particular schema without the seminal work from Morena.”)
(Only they used my real name.)
(And they knew how to pronounce it.)
(SHUT UP I know it’s just an undergrad thesis.)
(I have delusions of grandeur, okay?)
(This is why church history interests me. Where else can you use works like “eschatological” and not sound like a pretentious snob?)
(I also like parentheses.)
(Back to the story.)
Then…I had some tests? And some papers due? And I kind of started ignoring it? And, like everything else in my life that I don’t particularly enjoy contemplating like the fact that I’m going to be paying off student loans until the day I die, I preferred to not think about it. Much better that way.
So today I was hastily finishing FORMER Archbishop Weakland’s book (and I emphasize former because it really makes me mad when they mention him during the Eucharistic prayer and I know that’s mean and petty but whatever dude, I don’t think you should get to use archdiocesan funds to pay off your boyfriend and still get a shout-out) because I had to return it to work tomorrow- I certainly wasn’t going to pay for it. $35, Rembert? Really? You think you’re worth $9 more than the average hardcover? I mean, you hardly even talked about the scandal that much.
ANYWAY. I was kind of skimming, because frankly there’s only so many pages you can really read about a 45-year-old monk discovering his sexuality and the piano-playing always with the piano-playing. And then I got to a whole huge chunk about Vatican II. And it was actually a perfect complement to the other research I’ve been doing, which is generally pretty positive and this was pretty much, well, yeah, we were fine until Paul died and then, well, we were screwed and I BEG TO DIFFER REMBERT but then again, I beg to differ with most of your decisions.
Including the, you know, paying off your boyfriend with money that wasn’t your one. Especially that one.
So! I’ve gotten back into the research thing, and I guess that’s better than burying my head in the sand and then breaking out in hives the week before I’m supposed to turn in the paper.
Although that probably will happen anyway.