In true Melanie Griffith style - I am 'letting the river run'. My metaphorical shoulder pads are in, my jaw is square and my lipstick is apricot. I have a fire in my belly and an attention to detail that will serve me well if Sigourney Weaver turns up and wants to take me on. In other words I have found my inner working girl and by god is she getting a little exposure.
My younger and much wiser sister said to me this evening, 'how long does a phd take?' to which I gave the obligatory ten minute waffle about 'life's work' and 'if one were able to do it full time' and 'striking a life balance being important'. To which she retorted - gesturing to all the paper scattered around me - 'and you have set yourself a three week deadline to do the entire thesis because...?'
I, of course, have not done this, but the last few weeks have seen a decided increase in my output. I have found my drive and this is an exciting, but dangerous place to be. You know when you start a really good book and by about page four you start to realise that your windows are not going to get cleaned and the shopping is not going to get done and you have no chance of an early night because every single spare minute is going to be taken up with devouring the delicious story, language, characters that are languishing behind page after page of recycled paper. Well that feeling is how my research has been going over the last few weeks and this weekend has been like the culminating drama of the closing chapters of a great novel.
My inner Working Girl has stepped up to the plate. She has cast Harrison Ford aside and stared down Sigourney, she has picked up her hem line and her focus and is strutting headlong into the credits.
Basically, I have written a chapter - but to me this feels like I have just been given a corner office, all of my own, in a very tall city block.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0096463/
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