It’s been a while. I was working on another post about seizures and injuries and pain, but I kept having seizures and hurting myself and wallowing in physical and emotional discomfort. Then I thought I’d write about the sense of emotional isolation—often only perceived and/or self-afflicted— that I’ve experienced since I started having seizures and that’s been worsening in recent months, but by sitting alone and trying to compose it I was, I realized, exacerbating a problem I’ve been trying my best to control. So for now, no Pain Management: Part 2. You didn’t want to read it anyway.
I’m all about the holidays, mostly because they’re a mode of procrastination that’s widely sanctioned by even, probably especially, the most unreligious among us. Though I’m a lapsed Catholic, I revel in the decorating, cookie-baking, gift-wrapping chaos now associated with Jesus’ birth. Thanks, commercialization of religious celebrations. Seriously.
It’s pretty extraordinary how much I can accomplish when I’m not doing what I should be. Among other activities, I’ve put up a tree, knit miniature Santas and snowmen (pictured below), and attempted to create Christmas cards that are nice enough to mail out. All this thesis-avoidance has, paradoxically, led to a record-breaking few weeks of writing, though, to be fair, the record I broke was dismally low to begin with. In any case, I’m inching ever closer to finishing my dissertation while also decking the proverbial halls with nauseatingly glittery pinecones.’Tis the season.