Ok, I don't know if I told you last week that Advisor's preliminary (ohmigod, how will I ever finish) comments on the chapter came via e-mail. A week ago, I got the hard copy. Though I've been doing the reading she suggested via e-mail and thinking about how best to re-order the chapter per her request, I haven't been able to make myself look at the comments she actually wrote on the paper while she was reading it.
So this morning, once the kiddos were gone, I grabbed a Smirnoff Ice and climbed back in the bed with the chapter clutched in my shaky hands. And yes it was morning and yes the drink contained alcohol and yes I'm Baptist and yes I feel like someone from the 50s climbing into bed with alcohol when the kids are away, but if the sorta-president can have carte blanche to do whatever he wants...
You get my drift.
So anyway, after a detailed perusal, the most amazing things didn't happen. I didn't feel like much wailing and gnashing of teeth. I didn't feel like I'd been cut to shreds. And I didn't think she was being nitpicky or difficult. The things she noted--primarily that, while I made excellent use of relevant sociology this was a HISTORY dissertation (up the historiography, elle, damn!) , I tended to bury a number of important points in the footnotes and conclusion, and she couldn't tell what my position was on some points because I so skillfully stated both sides of the case (okay, she didn't say skillfully, but I know that's what she meant to say!)--were actually things that I should've caught myself (actually, I'd been whining about the historiography thing to my group, but making no real effort to fix it). Shoulda, coulda, woulda, but in my exhaustion, didn't.
So, I'm tipping my next Smirnoff to my advisor. Good catches, woman, good catches!