Love's labours not lost

Writing crystallises my thinking into a meaningful text.  It forces the disparate strands of study to come together, take shape, achieve coherence, present a whole.  I have just printed the first full draft of my thesis.  This allows me to view it from the outside, as a reader would.  I can handle it as an object, see it, finger it, critique it, question it, feel proud about it, feel the need to change it, take notes about it, worry about it, pause on it, stop.  I can weigh it as an object, number it, measure it critically, view it from a distance, put it in a drawer.  I can pass it to someone else or keep it hidden for longer.
Writing a thesis is a labour of love, about love, a labour I love and do not love. It is a labour not lost.