Lint Castles

Am I the only one who feels like she's completely making up her research? I mean, I do have photocopied documents, old filmstrips (one of my essential primary sources), endless transcripts of Congressional hearings and judicial opinions. But right now, it all looks like pocket lint to me. I feel like I've emptied my pockets onto the table and then attacked the contents with scotch tape and bailing wire and am now standing back and saying, "See! Isn't that a beautiful castle. Let's build a moat!"

I suspect this means I need more research. I also suspect this means that last week's complete disinterest was really hiding panic on a slow boil. I often suspect that I'm fooling myself completely with more than just my research. I used to think it was completely insane that so many people quit their PhD programs once they were ABD. Why quit when you've completed all those cumbersome requirements? Because that was the easy part; that's why. I'm not at all on the verge of quitting, but the thought has crossed my mind more in the last six months than it did in the previous four years combined. Right now, I'm looking around for the dealer who is supplying all these academics with crack. I need mine. Because that bunch of fuzz on the table? No way will that build floors that will support weight, walls that are remotely attractive, or a roof that will keep the rain out. That lint wouldn't make a barn a self-respecting cow would have any part of. A castle? Bwahahaha!