I am waiting, still, yes, still, for one marker. Two markers have returned it, but I apparently will not be told anything about marks until this final, lingering, individual returns it. Since I handed it in in March, it's getting a little irritating now, since it is September, and I can feel all the strands that I had with the thing dropping off. It's going to be difficult to get back into the thesis if I had to do rewrites. But the worse of the waiting, however, is the constant questions from my friends and family, asking me if I've heard anything yet. Have you heard--? What about--? Hey, your--! I think they've recorded their voices and just play the question out of a microphone in their neck every time we talk. I shouldn't complain, but I'm busy trying not to think about it, and this questioning, well, it makes me think about it, y'know?
Still, I would like the marks back. I would like the closure. I've had my fun: I wrote Twenty-Six Lies/One Truth, got a speeding fine driving to Port Maquarie, and I've read a bunch, watched some films, and seen some bands. Time to bring in some closure to the thesis and move on.
Though on to what, is, I guess, a question.
You'd be surprised how little you're actually qualified for with a doctorate. Fit for party tricks only, it seems.