Well, here we are: December 1, 2008. The first day of the last month of the first year of the last stage of my formal education. Or something like that.
So, it's three in the morning and I have just finished my transcription work for the day. I'd be more satisfied with myself if I didn't discover that the transcription I'd already finished and assumed amounted to roughly half of what I'd needed to get done before beginning the chapter on Disgrace was actually a much smaller fraction than one-half. I mean, I'm not exactly surprised. The amount of work I've had to do for Disgrace has always dwarfed the amount required for any other chapter, but, ugh. I've already typed forty-odd pages of single-spaced notes on the book and imagine it will be more than a hundred pages of notes before I am anywhere near finished with the transcription. To put it into context, neither the notes on The Master of Petersburg or Age of Iron exceeded more than thirty or so pages...
Thanks to Scared of Chaka and Flipper, I found the energy to sit (somewhat less painful an endeavor than it has been in the past few days) down and churn out a few more pages of transcription.
But, man, when I say it feels like this never ends, fuck, it feels like it never ends.