This morning when I was on my way out the door (15 minutes late, as usual), I saw the package that had arrived yesterday that I assumed was for my upstairs neighbor, as I do not have packages delivered to my apartment (too much temptation for the crackheads, you see) and they apparently order online at least 4 days a week, since there always seems to be a package waiting for them on my porch (I know, very disheartening).
But the package had my name on it!
"What the heck could this be?" I wondered, since I never get packages delivered to my apartment.
I didn't recognize the sender, but thankfully the post office had already sliced through the top of it, perhaps to make sure it didn't have a bomb in it (thank you so much for your concern about my safety!), so I could see that it contained three thin letter-size paperback books.
"Hmm..." I wondered. I opened the package on the porch (like I said, I *never* get packages at home!) and...
My dissertation had arrived in printed form! Hooray! I wish I could paste a .gif of fireworks without looking like a douchebag, because that's what it felt like.
I've been on cloud 9 all day. Of course, I only read the epilogue and acknowledgements, and I've already found a typo, but who cares!? The cover says, "Graduation Date: 2009" which is last year! Not next week, not three years from now, but a previous date!
So while I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up, at least I have proof that 1) I have a PhD bitches, 2) I'm a good writer, and 3) I can construct a logical and innovative theory and back it up with data using appropriate methods of study.
Sweet.
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