I finally submitted my project today. It's strange to think that it's gone. I thought I had to print it, so I did, but apparently I only had to send an electronic copy to my advisor. So now I have a copy.
This project has spanned some of the most frightening events of my life. Over the expanse of this project, I have lost friends, my marriage has suffered irreparable damage, and I have grown less comfortable with my place in life than I ever have before. I leave this project an admitted social and personal mess.
Fortunately, it's done. I have a week-long, take-home exam/essay later in the month, but that will be a relative cakewalk when compared to this beast of a brainbender. I was never made to write APA research projects; I hope to never do it again.
As I articulated yesterday to a French backpacker at a Starbucks in downtown Victoria, I hope that I can now start to vomit forth songs again, that my creative juices can thrive again in the fury of relationships. But I'm not counting on it.
To celebrate, I ate some food. I then went downtown and got some film I'd developed. I played a an acoustic guitar I particularly enjoyed. And that's about it.
If I hope to treat myself to anything when I'm done, I think I'll get the new Cars anthology. No band appeals to my nerdy awkwardness like The Cars do. After all this shit, I could sure use some electronic rock affirmation.
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