Malfunction alert: the temperature has fallen below the unit's optimum range

My next dissertation course starts tomorrow. This was to have been my last course, the final one of 27 courses, after six-plus years and the equivalent of a down payment on a modest fixer-upper in SE Portland. In a perfect world, I would be finishing my dissertation in the next three months and bidding this online educational nightmare adieu. No such luck. I'm still wrestling with my concept paper. Here I am, still on the launching pad. But I have hope. I think the paper is starting to take on a shape that will demonstrate I am ready to make the leap from student to scholar.

I made good progress yesterday, when the air in my apartment was a sizzling 90°. Outside it was almost 100°. (Isn't that neat, the degree symbol? Just press ALT plus 0176 on the number pad!) I was like, Warm at last, thank god almighty, I'm warm at last. Up till about 4:00 pm I was still wearing a cap on my head and socks with my slippers. But along about 6:00 pm, when the sun came over the proverbial yardarm (the corner of the apartment building), the temperature in my living room spiked, my blood began to flow, and my brain started cranking. Yes! I was on fire. Not literally. I mean, my hands loosened up. My feet unfroze. I felt like I could write for hours and not get tired, and I did, I wrote for hours. I researched, I guzzled tepid iced tea, I pondered, I contemplated, I even thought critically! Look at me go, I'm a dynamo.

I didn't finish the paper, though. Eventually my eyes started to cross. It was almost midnight when I finally admitted I could do no more. I blearily backed up my work and turned on the TV. Even dynamos have to zone out sometimes. I tried to hold on to my persona as a brilliant thinker as I futilely tried to avoid watching the Olympics. Neither one happened. (What do they say about try?)

Today is a new day, and just as I feared, I've forgotten all my brilliant insights from yesterday. Sigh. It sounds suspiciously familiar. I think I've heard a student say something along those lines, like, “I knew what I wanted to write, but when I sat down to write it, nothing came out!” (Shock of the ages.) As if the writing process is like a meat grinder. You know, if I just throw these facts in here, and turn the crank, voila! Out onto the paper—plop!: A thesis statement, coherent supporting paragraphs, and a righteous conclusion! (Where can I get one of these things!? Wait, I think they have something similar at CheapEssays.com.)

I spent much of the day studying two chapters in a poorly written business ethics textbook, trying to find some fact or story that would make ethics come to life for my three female accounting students. We are starting week three tomorrow, trudging the career college treadmill, following the syllabus, covering the material, and if I can engage the students in a discussion for more than five minutes, well, that might constitute proof of the existence of god. I'm sure the topic of corporate compliance is interesting to some people, but not to these three. I love scandal as much as the next person, but this book leaves out all the juicy details. So there was a sexual harassment scandal at the U.S. mint? Really? I looked it up. Sure enough, the guys at the mint apparently didn't do a great job of hiding their girlie magazines, and the women got upset. Now there's a story to talk about! What happens when corporations don't comply with their codes of ethics? Lawsuits!

It's warm again today, but not as warm as yesterday, only 89° now, according to the gadget on my computer. The sun has just cleared the yardarm. The entire front window is glowing. Supernova headed this way! Maybe my brain will kick into high gear now. No excuses. I can imagine what my first update memo to my chairperson will look like: I am sorry, I couldn't make progress on my concept paper because the temperature of my living room fell below my optimum range.