Just so everyone knows: no, I haven't been abducted by aliens, am not suffering from amnesia, have not eloped and have not been kidnapped.
I have merely flung myself headlong into the Vortex of Madness (or, at the very least, Vortex of Lots of Late-Night Work and Excessive Midnight Snacking) that sucks in normal people and spits them out some time later, reeling and bewildered, but with a graduate degree. Most people call it the Master's Thesis.
But, in spite of the work interspersed with visits to the hospital (that's another story for another time) and all, I'm alive and well. And strangely optimistic. I know this is a long shot, (got about a month until the end of the semester, and then a couple of weeks until the deadline for grades) but I figure, if I work like a madwoman for the remainder of the semester, I think I'll make it. Right now, the one thing that's motivating me is the fact that the members of my guidance committee think that my study is actually worth doing. That and the fact that I'll be able to move on with my life after I finish.
All this reminds me of Shakespeare somehow:
"The powers of us may serve so great a day
Come, let us take a muster speedily:
Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily."
Hee.
