I spent today puting together my thesis. My supervisor had informed me that he wanted a draft by today(ish), and I wish that I could say that I’m pleased to have one. That’s not to say that I don’t have one mind you: just to say that I’m not remotely pleased by it.
I can’t even look at it right now, I’m so bloody sick of the accursed thing; so much yammering about gauge theories and black holes ensconced in negatively-curved universes. If anyone so much as whispers the words ‘symmetry group,’ I think I’m going to puke.
I wasn’t even writing today; I was looking at the parts that I had already written and trying to hammer them into some sort of coherent whole. Editing, in essence; perhaps that had something to do with instilling me with feelings of contempt for my own work.
Anyways, the moral lesson for today is this:
Writing is easy.
Editing is hard.