I can now make lists of things I have to do. I think that is progress. For what is life but the effort to convert the multitude of responsibilities into ever smaller quanta of tasks, thus making each one manageable in itself, while masking the impossibility of the whole. As my tutor said, when I expressed the seemingly hopeless task ahead of me to complete my degree, “Just do one thing at a time, and eventually you’ll finish the job.” Of course his kind words were merely defering the inevitable. We already knew I was due to fail.
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