. . .mean work at the end of the week. When they mean work. Right now. Tonight. And more before tomorrow afternoon at 4:00.
I thought, you see, that it might be helpful to have a deadline before the deadline; just that extra shove to get the work done. So I sent off an e-mail: if you can find the time to meet with me, I promise a thesis and an outline (and maybe even a draft) that we can discuss. I promised, you see, not to procrastinate.
That was last Saturday. I had the time of our meeting by Monday. On Tuesday morning I wrote the thesis; I raveled an outline out from somewhere in the depths of my mind; I closed my eyes and tried to cut to the chase, tried to maneuver through tangled ambiguities and the appallingly imprecise way in which Locke uses words (sometimes he means this, sometimes that - the line between reality and idea melts in and out of the semantic acrobatics of his Essay.) But, you know, I didn't write a draft.
Because writing the draft meant that I had to really, truly face the perplexities of the case. And I keep telling myself that I'm not ready for that yet.
Well, that meeting is tomorrow. And, in fact, the paper is due in seven days. Tonight the library is open until midnight. And to the library shall I repair for a reluctant rendezvous: just my laptop and I. And that Locke book. But don't worry, the outline and the thesis will be along as our chaperons. Just so we don't forget ourselves.
Just to make sure that something actually gets written.