WITS' END

Universe, I implore you to be nice to me.

It has been nearly a month since I enrolled for what I fervently, fiercely hope to be my last term in graduate school. I took ony one subject: Thesis. This is it.

Man, oh man. To all those who are planning to earn a second or third degree, be forewarned. It's not as much of a breeze as we think it is. Well, for the first two or three semesters, sure. It's a snap, especially when you enjoy what you're doing (and I did). But come thesis time, you realize that it's not like your undergrad research when you can churn out your final draft overnight in the middle of a painful breakup and other social and academic glitches. No sir. This is serious. You do it like it matters--to the academe and the greater community. You think about it like it's going to make an impact on society, positive or negative. And you WANT it to make some impact, in some small, practical, significant way, otherwise it would be utterly pointless to even go through with it. You feel the pressure of wanting to make a concrete contribution to a cause, and not let the hardbound pages gather dust in the back of the library. You don't want it to be a waste of 200 sheets of paper and two bottles of ink.

I feel so strongly about this friggin thesis I think my head is going to pop. I've never been so serious--and helplessly IN DESPAIR--until now. I've never had my personal shortcomings so vividly brandished in front of me (by myself of course. So insecure, damn.). I'm so frustrated, afraid, lost, and yet strangely confident about what I want to happen. My hormones are going berserk.

I think I've picked an unbelievably difficult topic: Housing. It's very interesting, but extremely complicated. I've bumped into strangers in the library who, upon seeing the piles of books on my table, commented that they, too have been working on the same general topic, and have been at it for at least two years, with the end far from sight.

And it now seems to be true after all, that the more you read, the less you know. I have more questions and deadends now than answers.

Maybe I'm overdoing it. Overdoing it? But all I've done is think! And worry! I haven't even a proposal to show off! I spent this first month basically in confusion. What topic? What focus? How do I it? How do I prove my theory/wild guess? What's my conceptual framework (what direction do my stupid arrows go?!?!)? I made a promise to get my MA before I turn 24, how long will this goddam thesis take? And how much of my nonexistent money will I have to spend?

On a positive note, I have been inching my way towards a clearer concept of what really want to do. I've met very helpful people (in government, wow! Harhar) who were very encouraging (sabay sabi ng hija, mahirap ang gagawin mo. Wah. Thanks na rin.). I've got Mark to set my deadlines for me (none of which I've met so far hehe), and other friends that serve as my sounding board.

I will get through this. In the end, we all do (aka As if we have a choice). But the agony...argh.

I hope Santa gives me an ultracool present to compensate.