Today, I finally completed and submitted the revisions to the first draft of my Masters thesis.
I submitted the first draft to my advisor a little less than two months ago and started getting the first comments about four weeks later. To my immense relief, none of the comments made then and since have required substantial rework, and my fears about needing to take days off to complete the revisions or about missing my deadline entirely have proven to be unfounded.
To be honest, I’m still stunned by how fast and painless the entire process has been. I’d procrastinated on completing my thesis for eighteen months out of fear of the labor and drudgery involved, but when I finally stopped resisting the potential labor and drudgery, it all got done with remarkable velocity.
(And the most surprising thing is how proud I am of the work I did! I wrote something 94 pages long that actually says something intelligent and useful and relevant while remaining accessible to the lay reader—well, at least as accessible as Peripateia at its most pedantic.)
Now, all that needs to be done is to get the final approval of my advisor and the chairperson of the department. Then I can proceed to distributing fat little copies of the final version to the panelists of my defense (copies which I presume will remain unread until Christmas is over—a thesis can’t compete against the lures of the holiday seasons regardless of how intelligent, useful and relevant it purports to be). And then, after a brief flurry of paperwork, I’ll be ready to defend. (The defense will be open to the public, by the way, only I can’t imagine why any of my family and friends would want to be there apart from demonstrating their sheer love for me. As far as the event’s entertainment value is concerned, it’s not exactly American Idol.)
Still, I’m looking forward to it—am excited by it actually. That day will mark the completion of an important and memorable chapter of my life, and all I can think to ask myself right now is: why did I wait so long?