So I defended my thesis yesterday. Let me tell you, it was surprisingly anticlimactic. Once it's done, no confetti streams from the ceiling. Just some handshakes and a few smiles.
The ride into the thesis defence looked something like this:
Well, I suppose I haven't quite hit the exit.. I'm presuming here that nothing is going to drive my stress levels sky high.
The stress levels started climbing as I rushed to finish my thesis for submission to my committee. Then there were the three weeks while I waited for the defence itself. The start of that period found my stress levels dropping, right up until I started preparing my presentation.
Preparing a good presentation is an art form. I've had a lot of inspiration from watching my supervisor master presentations, and I took a lot of his techniques in order to try to keep the thesis presentation interesting and lively. Managed to get a few laughs during the presentation, which broke tension and kept me going.
I was pretty happy with the presentation that happened. I realized at the time there were a few points I needed to cover, and managed to weave them in on the fly largely OK. Aside from a few tongue trip ups, I felt like it went smoothly.
The defence was largely cordial, and I felt like I answered the questions with a good amount of confidence (and correctness).
Then it was done.
I suppose at this point I have my masters, barring the needed revisions. Still, it feels very anti-climactic. I wonder if this is just me; I didn't feel nearly as much stress about the defence as I had felt stress about the presentation -- so perhaps in my head I'd already written off the degree as a foregone conclusion.
My master's was a huge amount of work, and I'm very proud of what I accomplished. It was a struggle at points, and there were certainly times where I felt like giving up might have been the best option. Yet I did it. I finished it up. Maybe I just wish there has been some fireworks (just kidding).
The final piece of my graduation timeline drawn on the whiteboard in my office. Everything else was erased as it was accomplished. Yet, I won't be wearing a mortar this year, as I plan to miss my convocation.