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I've just attacked another pile of paper.

My problem is that - in the rearrangement of my flat - my piles of finished work that were waiting to be put away or thrown out became hopelessly entangled with my piles of work still to be done and my stray thoughts that had not been classified yet. I sorted the books first (because they were easy) and started working with them and putting them in my 'finished' pile for bibliographing just as soon as my eyes permitted. I've already finished with the ones for my dissertation and am now slowly catching up on critical essays. I'm still a few days behind on dissertation and now I'm 3 1/2 weeks behind on other stuff (except for BiblioBuffet, where I might catch up today, if I'm lucky and clever), but now I finally know where everything is and what needs doing.

Just now, I realised how very much I depend on the safeness of my office space: I'm going to have to spend a large chunk of today going through my work with this final big stack of notes and working out what I need and what I need to do. In short, today I intend to do with my notes what I've already done with my books. Then I have to do the same with articles and books I have not yet checked - find out what they are and finished with them. Then I start writing up. And then I'm back on track.

I would have had to do a big sort of paper eventually anyway, but not as extensively nor as confusedly. There are some very strange mixings in these papers.

What I want to do (which is work on the novel) I can't until my supervisor gets back to me.

Anyhow, my big aim of the day (for I have a big aim of the day) is to get all of this garbage so very much under control that I advance in my work despite everything. I shall make sorting work for me rather than just be another reason for meltdown. I shall have Chapter Six ready to write by the end of the day, in fact, except for the last dozen books and articles that I might need to check. Those will be on a list with where I shall obtain them, and I shall schedule library visits.

And lo, there will be miracles.

Actually, I've been working on the papers all fortnight. The spreading of pantyhose all over the bedroom might have been more emotionally horrid, but the paper problems are the biggest. They were also the hardest to handle until my eye settled. What I'm noticing today is that the end is in sight. I'm almost at the stage when I can tackle one simple thing after another and make my work area behave.

I'm going to celebrate with a library visit and a giant cup of tea.


ETA: The library must wait til Tuesday - there is smoke outside. When will they finish this burning off?

(no subject)

I have done my check of books to read and it's very cool - I have a day's work at the National Library, I had two books to order (not available in Australia) and I have a few more articles to read and then I'm done! There'll be mopping up and extra checks after drafting, of course, but it means I was as advanced as I thought I was and I can start writing this week, since the last few books are peripheral and checks rather than crucial.

What this shows is that my wonderful note-keeping/research technique that I have used for the last zillion years still works, even with major disruptions and the advent of decent word processing. What this also shows is that I shall finish this degree this year, despite everything. Which is what I'd hoped, of course, but until the research end is close to finished, one can't be certain.

And the magic news? FNAC now ship to Australia. When I ordered the two books (they had both! I couldn't find them when I looked last year - these books were my swords of Damocles*) I also ordered my birthday present, which is the DVD set I couldn't find in France last year. Cover your ears, for I am about to sing: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SSDQSqe6T_E







*Other people have one sword - I get two. It's the Medievalishness seeping through. When I get time I want to re-read Le chevalier as deus espees - there's something I missed or am forgetting and it's fretting me. Not yet, though, nor for the next six months, I fear. I will probably make two-sword jokes until such time as I check it, though. I apologise in advance for their quality, though not for the jokes themselves.

(no subject)

There's a chance of rain tomorrow. I'm hoping that it comes, even though my internal weathersense is very uncertain about it. If it rains, then grumpy Gillian who is complaining about chocolate all the time will be able to breathe properly. The source of my grump is the smoke in the air - the food is just an outlet. The combination of autumn allergies and the burning off is icing on the cake after my delightful March and so I grumble at the drop of a pin.

The good news is that my underlying health is so much better than it has been that despite everything, I've done work. Today the brain wasn't working, so most of my interesting tasks had to be postponed. Instead I worked on bibliography. Not the fun bit of bibliography - the tedious checking six different lists to make sure that everything is covered in the right edition. I'm not there yet, but I've made large inroads. Those six lists are all sorted and I only have two other lists to add. I wasn't supposed to be working on it yet, but the bottom line is that I had a choice between thinking poorly and writing worse, or doing something that was mostly mechanical.

I also demolished a lot of paper. I can now start to finish tasks and put things away, in my normal cyclical fashion. This will make the next month easier, and it will also make it simpler to sort out the debris from the burglary. The carpets need cleaning, for instance (they did before, but now I have no choice) so it's important to get enough clear space so that I can get someone in to do it.

Tonight I'm taking it easy. I have a lot of reading to do and maybe some TV to watch. Also many cups of tea to drink. I'm not at home to visitors, but I am certainly at home to phonecalls.

Tomorrow is tax, I think or as much of it as I can do in a session. That will get rid of even more paper, as it goes into the special drawer devoted to dead tax paper. By Tuesday's library visits and teaching, my whole lounge room/study area will be tolerable. Then maybe you'll get fascinating posts. Maybe.