...though I'm not exactly feeling better. The cough I picked up in America in October has stuck around to make life difficult, so the frequency of getting things done has halved, and the rate of not being able to care that I'm not getting things done seems to vacillate at will.
Fortunately, other things have been vacillating as well - there were difficulties hunting down an external examiner, so my hand-in date has shifted to January 20th, which happens to be my dad's birthday. Which means that I don't get to move home just yet, but at least I get another month to work on the thesis. No matter how finished it gets I'll always be able to spend one more month on it, but given the amount of time I've spent coughing instead of working this term the delay is something of a blessing.
The academic conference that's been in the works for the past year will finally come to pass on Saturday, and I've got everything crossed that it goes off without any major upsets. I'm not presenting, but running the thing is so much effort that I wish I were. But the experience has been worthwhile, and I'm pretty sure that the feeling of getting back the brainspace that's been devoted to conference things will be nothing short of transcendent.
Oh, and there's a fiction-adjacent side-project that I've somehow gotten drawn into as a side effect of being involved with the conference. But that's all I'll say about that until it's ready to bear fruit. Which, by the look of things, shouldn't be long at all.
