Ironic how life cyles around isn't it? Can be zipping around on achabas, wearing beautiful clothes, speaking Hausa, and acting in movies one month, and then the next you're back to the prosaic task of sitting in front of a computer all day with an unexplained terror of venturing into the murky territory of the intimidating CHAPTER THREE. So, you sit there, all bloody day, re-reading and re-reading, listening to P-Square, Eedris Abdulkareem, and Paul Play, dancing around your room, editing and adding in a sentence or two every once in a while to Chapters 1 and 2, and eating nonsense like pickles, boiled squash, and chedder cheese for dinner because you can't let yourself do anything (even fix dinner) but work on the thesis, but you also can't quite get started on it, even though it has been a week now that you've been doing about the same thing, and you desperately have to finish the damn thing because you have four classes to read for, two conference papers to finish, and a book to translate before november.
Why exactly are you doing this again?
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