It was a Monday and for me as an elementary school teacher it was a day off thanks to Miguel Hidalgo and the Department of Education, but my time had run out. I had to deliver my fourth chapter, and it didn’t matter wether I was happy with it or not. I was already a week late and there was no possible way to get out of it with a plausible excuse. So I printed it and drove to UNAM’s Historical Research Institute, a.k.a. Mount Olympus, and handed it in. I wanted to see my tutor, but she wasn’t there, which in the end turned out to be not such a bad thing.
I spent the rest of the day feeling sorry for myself. My chapter was probably sh*t, and to top it all off, my morning off turned out to be a bitter reminder of the days when I could do whatever I wanted and especially GO wherever I wanted. Compared to that, now I was basically a prisoner from the moment I woke up until 3:30 or 4 in the evening! And it’s not that I didn’t have responsibilities before, it’s just that I could choose when and how to address them.
To make it all a little bit worse, instead of getting the usual I-got-your-paper-now-let’s-meet e-mail from my tutor, I got an even shorter mail asking me to call her…and that’s when I flipped. Of course it had to be a different mail, given the less than awful text I had dared to hand in, she was probably pissed and disappointed, she might even tell me to find another tutor since I can show no sign of commitment to my own thesis. It was until Friday when I gathered the will to call. She was as nice as ever and just wanted to organize our schedules to be able to meet soon, and had probably asked me to call just to avoid all the coming and going of messages that usually takes for us to find a time to meet. I mentioned in the most normal voice I could find that I wasn’t happy at all with what I had sent and had expected her to feel more or less the same, and I got a silence that felt as: “What on earth are you talking about, crazy girl?”. She eventually said that it wasn’t the case, the progress could be seen, and we could work on the bumps I had encountered when we met. The call left me feeling as crazy as ever, but still definitely a little better than before.
Mondays are pretty sh*tty on their own without your crazyself pitching in, so I hope I can control her tomorrow. Let’s see.