last night, i was tired and figured that i ought to take advantage of that. so i took my night time meds and got comfy with my book and waited for gradual shut-down of my awareness. just about the time my brain was beginning to numb a bit, ya know, when the thoughts are slowing so they don't resemble falling flying matrix; my guy asked me to read his dissertation proposal. i foolishly agreed.
now, on my very best day, these days, i have to read his writing very slowly and often must reread entire paragraphs til i get the gist of what he is saying. he is one of the best academic writers i know. it's very succinct, concisely yet thorough. a draft of his is like the final publication. he slowly, persistently builds his papers with all the thoughts interwoven to provide a complete canvas. so it is very dense, with none of the filler filibustering that many folks use to camouflage the fact that they didn't take the time or make the effort to think, analyze, formulate, and solidify their thoughts.
so last night, with diminished capacities (yet i was unaware of how groggy i was, how far the process of shutting down was), i began to digest his dissertation proposal. omg. i'm not a psychologist, let alone a clinical psychologist. so there were tons of new material, concepts, constructs, and theories for me to try to stick and they were all just sliding down like mud on the glassiness of my brain.
he had stepped outside and i was chipping away and taking my time to get what i could get. when he came back in, he saw i was still reading and so he did a few other things, puttered about and such. an hour and a half later, i finally realized that what would have been difficult for me to grasp, was nearly impossible for me to even conceive an inkling. i was able to get enough of it to tell you that it is solid. it's quality stuff. he checks stuff out from every angle and then fashions it just so, presenting a complete picture that lacks for nothing.
after apologizing for my own ineptitude, i explained that my expressive skills were shot for the time and my receptive skills were not so far behind. i reassured him that i would love to read it again, so we could discuss it when i was more able to comprehend even the general gist of it all. then i collapsed on the mattress and solidly sunk into slumber for a few hours.
i woke up to see that he was still at it, no sleep for him. he left at 5:30a, to drive back to oxford and begin his week, his day, his meetings. i know i'm not to compare, but this all knocks me back, and i see the disparity between his and my days, life, abilities.
i need nappage. now.