ah, existence

Right now I'm experiencing that particularly blesséd state of being, the Sunday night of a long weekend. The normal feeling of impending doom is lightened, delayed for a 24 hour period. This is heightened for me this evening, as despite *knowing* the whole time that this is a Long Weekend, I had experientially and thus essentially forgotten said detail. So when, mid-bemoanst that I was not going to be able to continue the fruitful work this weekend was yielding on my thesis, blue-bolt like it struck me that this, *this* is a Long. Weekend. it was like a gift from the very heavens above.

But, ay, there's the rub. You've spotted it dear friend, no? The reason for my deep, and I would certainly claim, profound, and, I can only hope, long-lasting, joy at this celestial revelation is not that it gives me time to swan about in a pair of sequinned mou-mous,* delectable beverage in hand, but, rather, spend another day working on my thesis, daunting beast that it is. Those of you given to such projects will understand the miraculous productivity that is the Third Day however - the snow ball effect after the first and second days, where Knuckle Down is Achieved and Thesis Topic is Remembered. Today, today, oh joy of heavenly joys, I had brief glimpses of the Actual Argument that is the Meat Food upon which the Thesis Feeds.

This is dangerously positive. The end, it is in sight. So much of my present and future happiness is at stake in this sensation not proving delusory that I hardly bear trust myself to think, speak, type it lest it prove a brief transitory insanity that leaves me shell-like and rocking forth and back. For, in the current state, I am currently operating on the One True Deadline: the first thesis deadline that I have actually and totally Believed In. All others have been false deadlines, but knowningly false, the 9/09/09 was poetic and palindromic yes, but never entirely faithfully enacted. And perhaps that was its ultimate vice, its downfall, but this, this, oh March 2010, you are the True Deadline, the one in which all hopes reside.

*admittedly, if one is to take, you know, accepted english definitions for words 'mou-mou' refers to the kind of one-piece robe-like garment beloved of Parliament smokers everywhere. If, however, one is to take the definitions that were determined during a morning tea break at a place I was briefly employed at some years ago, the accepted definition of mou-mou is that the term is taken to refer to those kitten-heeled fluffy-toed 'slipper' often seen on a young lady of the house who is also taken to the wearing of fluffy (ostrich feather?)-edged robe around the house. Naturally, it is this latter to which the present author ascribes.