Thesis, Thesising, Thesised = Noun, Verb, Adjective

Those of you who know me personally are aware of the fact that I am working on my Master’s Thesis. Although, stating it in that manner is putting it in a polite and flattering light, which those who are in the midst of completing their thesis or have already done so know that is not the truth. Last year I viewed those working on their thesis as people who had procrastinated and did not fully comprehend what all it took to complete, but all of those sentiments have changed drastically this school year. It has come to my attention that the word thesis is and can be used as a noun, verb, and an adjective to describe every aspect of my life. When people ask what I am doing, inevitably, the answer is working on my thesis or it can be pared down, due to time constraints as thesising. Therefore, there is a noun and verb form! Lately, I have also encountered that it can be used as an adjective to describe how others and I are in a state of physical and mental wellbeing, but once again … Can anyone be “well” while writing a thesis?

The point of all this … well, there is not a real point but simply a musing and an excuse to take a break from writing my memoir. A break from my thesis, a break from thesising, and an attempt to not become thesised,

Good luck to all my fellow comrades who are burying themselves in piles of books; going cross-eyed staring at their laptops; and neglecting the most basic human needs of hygiene, food, and sleep. It will be over soon enough! 

Lost key...

Today it was beautiful outside, 60 degrees and sunny. After spending all weekend cooped up inside writing my thesis/memoir I decided I needed a break and needed to get out, so naturally I put on my running shoes, grab Tux, and hop in my truck to head to a good place to run. When I park and I am getting ready to begin, I put my single car key on Tux’s leash as I have done for years and I decide to leave my phone in my truck because I want to enjoy the sounds of nature.

We are running and everything is going wonderful, the sun is shining, Tux is actually running in a straight-ish manner (only stopping a few times to go to the bathroom and roll in the grass), and I am finally beginning to loosen up my sore legs and get into my stride. A few miles pass and we round the last corner and I can see my truck glimmering in the sunlight. I know my water is waiting inside and my parched mouth and tired legs push through the final stretch to reach the cool water and shade. As I bend over to retrieve my car key, I notice it is missing. Gone. I frantically look around at the ground surrounding me and there is nothing but pavement. Oh, my God this did not happen … I have been running with a single car key for eight years and never once have I lost it. Everything is in my car … my purse with my wallet and ID’s, my phone, my keys to everything, and my water. I am stuck.

Standing there pondering what to do, I decide Tux and I will rerun my route on the slight chance that maybe, just maybe I will find my key. We begin running again, slower this time and I continually pull on Tux’s leash as he reluctantly jogs in the grass. My eyes are scanning the ground and I wish I had worn my sunglasses. We pass the lake and I let Tux take a drink and think that it looks very tasty, but I am not that desperate. My thoughts are racing about how I do not have time for this, and what my next step is if I cannot find it … there is a police station close and I’m sure they would help me get it all sorted out. We continue our jog and I remember that Tux took a short roll around in the shade of one of his favorite trees. I get down on my hands and knees and begin searching the grass, feeling with my bare hands the dry brittle grass hoping to feel hard metal, looking for a glint of silver, and noticing the distinct smell of dog poop (no wonder Tux likes this spot) when JACKPOT! My left hand grasps a small GMC black and silver key. Relief rushes through my body as I stand up and glare at Tux thankful I have my key but pissed that he caused me to lose it. I turn us around, we begin to make our way back to my truck as Tux drools, and I twirl the key on my pointer finger in victory.