Don't count your chickens before they tear your lips off

This morning I was on hold with the Employment Department to get my PIN reset and thinking that if I had to listen to the same 45-second clip of Kenny G's insipid soprano sax one more time I was going to poke my ear drums out, when I had the inspiration to email program directors at the career college directly to ask them to ask instructors directly to participate in my study. I sent a few emails, and voila! I got two sign-ups today, and the possibility of one more. Very soon, if the data collection gods are kind, I will have seven, maybe even eight interviews. And that is within spitting distance of the goal. In fact, it might be good enough. Sometimes good is the enemy of the best, but sometimes good enough is good enough.

I hate to think I have Kenny G to thank for this. I'd be more inclined to attribute the sudden progress to the depth of my desperation. My new motto is Drill down, baby, drill down! As in, forget the president of the college, forget the VP of Whatever. Go down into the hole and grab those program directors by the scruff of their necks and shake 'em. Say firmly, Look here, Buster, I need to talk to some faculty. Pronto! And watch them scurry. It worked!

So next week I'll scurry to meet them whenever and wherever they decree, no matter if it happens to interfere with my best thinking time (AKA nap time). Things are looking up. And not a moment too soon. I have three months to put this baby to bed or throw myself on the mercy of the university for an extension. I'm sure they will give it to me, if I ask. I've been a good student. (Meaning I've done my work on time and kept my mouth shut.) But how nice it would be to have this done before the end of the year.

I'm already daydreaming about taking the longest nap, the longest bath, the longest geographical. I'm daydreaming about how I'll finally be able to visit my friends (the ones who still remember me).

You know what they say. Don't count your chickens before they tear your lips off. I have a mountain of research to sift through, to make sense out of, to write about coherently enough to gain approval from the dissertation review gods. The culmination of eight years of work is now culminating! Culminating in progress, before your very eyes. It's not really a pretty sight. Actually, it's kind of stinky. I need a bath. The whole place reeks like a gym bag. But who cares. As my sister wisely says, just get it done.