It’s over. All done. All said. All payed for (at least I hope so…) and all counts closed. The Colloquium where I had to play out all the cards I had, is done and over with. I really went to hell and back this time to make it happen. Bordering the nervous breakdown, exhaustive depression and the Super GAU. I worked over 12 hours a day to come to terms with the text and the philosopher I was supposed to rehabilitate, tore my hair out over my decision to quit my well known topics for something new and cursed everything and everyone around me. Sounds like fun? Well, it does, and really now it all seems so futile. And there lies the danger. But I heard the call and I will take it to heart and step down a little to get my energies up again.
So. The congress went GREAT. It was amazing. All organising was up top (thanks to Tristan – the loyal – of course). The people attending were impressed by our work and our contributions. And then the most amazing thing happened: the ones without their PhD and degrees rocked the place. 
Every single one of our little group that joins together some people from Paris (Sorbonne), from Switzerland and Italy, offered brilliant texts and insights into some of the works of the next years. And me? Well, so did I. And I would not have done it without my love. He stayed up with me until 1:30 the night before my talk to finish up the conclusion, held my hand, calmed my feverish breakdowns, lifted my headaches and made me tea throughout it all. And again, without him, I would have simply stood down and told AdL what’s the what: Boss, I’m ready for the asylum.
I didn’t. I came through and it feels very good. Some were so impressed that I am now with several invitations across the world for congress attendance, conference tours and some job prospects along the road. *sigh* But, really now, I have to take care of my issues. This call was just too close to ignore it. And it all starts with some days just filled with sleeping, reading, watching all three seasons of Grey’s Anatomy and reading Lynda Lemay lyrics. 
gt;
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Navré de ne pas avoir pu être là!
Mais bravo et félicitations pour tout, sauf peut-être pour Lynda Lemay dont il faudra que nous parlions, elle m’agace, elle m’agace
Quelle dommage que tu n’as pas pu assister… nous avons partagé beaucoup de rires et de folies qui t’auraient plu, j’en suis sûre.
Dis donc…
LL t’agace?
Sérieusement: si tu l’avais vu – comme nous – donner encore 1:20h de surplus, elle seule avec sa guitare, après 2h de spectacle, tu serais conquis à jamais
Elle m’agace, difficile à dire pour quelle raison; je ne mets pas en doute son authenticité, mais ce sont sans doute ses rimes forcées, sa guitare de Brassens sans moustache (à vérifier), sa façon de chanter en hochant la tête et ses dents trop grandes (je sais de quoi je parle), ça m’agace.
Et puis, les chanteuses québécoises m’agacent, je ne sais pas pourquoi, j’en parlerai à mon psychanalyste à l’occasion.
Sounds like you´re in the middle of a diploma work…I can rely to what you write. Greetings from Germany.
Hey Julia,
well… I am always in the middle of something…
I’ve seen your profile: you have got to be the first person that shares my uneasiness for Clowns because of Steven King’s ‘It’. Brilliant!