Paper Talk

So I'm writing a paper to submit to a scientific journal.  And I'm all so new to this publishing paper thingy.

Like, what?

No one-week break for me then.  Was gathering up ma confidence while standing by my Advisor's desk yesterday in the hopes of asking him if I could take a week off from the lab.  All the words I was rehearsing in my head flew out the window when he handed me a copy of a list of scientific journals and pointed out the one he wanted me to submit my paper to and told me to 'Start writing Gina!  Your English is good.  It won't be a problem.'

Like, for real?

No time to make plans to celebrate my thesis going into print that day or even to just feel some kind of relief.  The only time available is time to talk to people with experience in the publishing thingy;  Time to start reading about 'Guide for Authors' and download 'formatting rules, submission rules, etc. Time to write, write and write.  Time to spend more time in the lab.  Time to submit.  Time to wait for reviewers' responses.  Time to focus, take responsibility for your topic and content and hope for the best.'

So, like, good luck to me.  And.  Like.  Goodbye summer vacation!

Heaviness in my chest.  Lump forming in my throat.  Crows flying all over and around in my tummy.  Heart beating fast whenever the thought of 'submitting a paper' crosses my mind.  I had to always just remind myself that: 'This was what you wanted Nelma.  You wanted this now go and get it.  You have to do it.  You must.  You will.  You got this.'

So let the heaviness be here to stay.  Let the lump get bigger n bigger.  Let dem crows keep flying around restlessly.  Let the heart beat as fast as it wants to.

I'll take whatever will keep me going.  Whatever will keep me on my toes and make me do this.  Whatever will keep my standards going up and up.  Whatever will make me focus and work with all my might and with everything that I have inside.

So God help me.

Paper Talk.  Let it be my number one talk these days.

Love, Ny.

Perculiar me

Was just being called perculiar this morning.  I brushed it aside.  For a while.  And then it dawned on me.  That maybe I am really perculiar.

My choices.

Goals in life.  Field of education.  Place of education.  Research area.  Work ethics.  Interests.  Hobbies.  Introvert (on condition).  Friends.  Close friends.  Sisters. Boys.  Men.

Perculiar?

If I am, then I just hope I'm perculiar in a good way.  

Love, Ny.