Triage in reverse

What to report today - it was my penultimate day here in the MAD. The first half was spent in a very groggy manner, as I spent the entire night (hopefully for the last time in a long time) throwing together yet another sub-standard term paper cobbled together from bits of the tragic Ms. Thetis. Dr. Jaime A. Peck, being a fellow Marxist, will most undoubtedly have mercy on me like a good Marxist should, as he is well aware of my score. However, I still do not enjoy turning in such a shoddy quality paper. And so it goes - B's get degrees in grad school (along with painstakingly crafted theses.)
Haven't finished the paper for Dr. Wong, but I'll be getting on that immediately following this blog posting. Again, another woefully substandard product will be the result. So it goes, Mr. Vonnegut. So it goes.
I've come to the conclusion that I've had a mild bout of depression of late. I think this is due to the fact that I'm still embarrassed about my thesis, I feel overwhelmed with everything that needs to be done between now and 25 May, and that no one other than my ever-lovin' parents came for this thing. However, I do believe Thailand will pull anyone out of a downward rut. Or at least it will for me.
Which illustrates the reverse-triage of our society's attitude toward various graduations. When one graduates High School, a feat which in excess of 90% of people in this country succeed in and is about as challenging as climbing Bascom Hill if you're a Sherpa, the entire community congratulates them. They receive congratulations from everyone ranging from politicians to their insurance men to all their father's clients. When one receives one's Bachelor's Degree, a feat which somewhere between 40-50% of our populace achieves I would conjecture and is challenging enough to require two or three all-night study sessions per semester, a good portion of the relatives make the trip and one receives a fair number of cards. However, the hubbub is nothing like the High School graduation. When one receives the Master's Degree, a feat which likely less than 10% of society achieves (and of those, more than half are probably professional Master's which require no thesis or any equivalent,) and is slightly less harrowing than an invasion of Normandy in 1944, one receives the same acclaim as if they had bought a fishing license. Parents are proud, but it doesn't extend much beyond that. If I do end up going for my PhD someday, I think I'm gonna have to buy a dog, because if this trend continues, he'll be the only one showing up. Thankfully, potential employers see it the opposite of larger society when it comes to these degrees and the amount of money they are willing to pay is inversely proportional to the amount of acclaim society puts on the new recipients of these degrees.
Ma and Pa Luebke came to town today. I was able to show them the Arthur H. Robinson (May Peace be Upon Him) Map Library, and those of us who all came in to the department of Geography together back in the Fall of '03 took a few pictures together and went and had what is likely to be my last beer on the Terrace. The cool, grey weather actually made for a nice day to be out there, and lots of people who were receiving their PhDs were running around in their robes and caps, which is always cool to see.
Had some pizza for dinner, and got a good start on packing. So things are shaping up okay.
The party is tomorrow, and I'm hoping to let loose a bit. Hail progress!