I will write more later...

Tonight is the night. I am going to finish the third draft of my dissertation proposal. I was so pre-occupied by the dissertation thing today. I couldn't get it off from my mind even when I went to bathroom, on the road, or while eating. Sometimes I appreciated this working style, very concentrating and very devoting, but sometimes it pissed me off, because it took all the joys of human interaction away from me. I felt my head had a different weight and my focus was loose..... Anyway, a dance rehearsal an hour ago gave back my sanity. I am going to finish the thing and write more in this blog tonight. Work my ass off please.
.....
It is three hours later, and I did it! Self-congratulation first, since nobody else hung out in the department that late. However, I still cannot figure out why some people find it fun to write a dissertation. For me, it is quite stressful. At the beginning, it is full of procrastination, as if the work will go away if I delay it again and again. In the middle, I began to worry how I am going to finish it, because so many good and trashy ideas floating around for revisions, but I cannot tell which is briliant and which is worthless ideas. Finally, I sensed the clock ticking, so settling down and gluing my ass to the chair. It proved to be totally doable. And now it is over, and I hope my self-confidence has been recovered by now. Now I only hope my advisor wouldn't say,"Such a crap. No defense this quarter!" Well, partly kidding, and I know it is not gonna happy. But thinking of this scenario is amusing, as if my life has degraded so that I am not the one in control any more.
Well, control, that is a topic unfinished in the last post. I blogged about the reason why I did random things is because I want the experience. Well, part of the whole answer. The other part is that I want to have a sense of control. You see, everyone needs to do something on their own will. Take the looking for example. Some people tried to lose weight and I tried to gain weight. the direction of the trial does not matter; what matters is that we want a sense that we can control how we look. By the same token, make-up does not necessarily make people more beautiful, but does give girls a sense of self-esteem because they can decide how they look.
So Why do I dance, take low-pay jobs, do painful jogging? Partly because I want to do that. It sorta tautological, but that's the whole point. I do what I want to do, and that's why I am not insane by now.
After writing down the above analysis, I decide to quit. Why always psycho-analyzing myself? Lighten up, dude. Ok, next blog will be about another friend of mine. Stay tuned.