I can virtuously say that writing my dissertation started several months before I intended to finish, as I located a suitable template and began copying and pasting chunks of other papers I had written back in November of last year. I then didn't touch it again for a couple of months. Hey, I had started it, and I had an outline and everything.
Writing recommenced in February, when the bustle to put out conference notes in early March had larger passed away from this lowly graduate student performing studies and become a thing of editorial boards and professors. I ended up having a couple of weeks at CERN during which I could focus on writing, but this lovely time ended at the beginning of March when I had to pack up and move back to the United States, to complete my dissertation and prepare for my defense in a place where people couldn't come lean over my desk in my not-cubicle and ask more questions. At the time, I had drafted about five and a half chapters of my thesis*, two of which my professor had seen. I anticipated writing at eight total.
I despise moving. I have nightmares about airports and air travel. This move was putting some significant distance between me and my fiance. It was a stressful time. But I survived the apartment-emptying and stuff-packing and luggage-weighing and goodbye-saying to find myself arriving at the Geneva airport very early in the morning after a painless taxi ride and handing over my luggage with no complaints at all about weight. It was marvelous. I settled into my seat for the nine hour flight, and allowed myself to watch a movie before thinking that I should really be good and convert some more of notes into actual dissertation text. I opened my laptop bag (which also contained my headset, webcam, camera, and several books and other electronics; I was moving after all) and saw this:
Monday 15 October 2012
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