Hi, everyone.
After much work, deprivation, and misery, I’m presenting and defending my master’s thesis. Tomorrow. At noon.
The presentation’s not ready yet, I’m still a little clueless about why, exactly, my results came out as they did, and I feel woefully underprepared for the defense.
But my committee is unanimous in saying that they want to do it and get it done, so that’s what we’re doing.
Ack!
Wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Good luck! I have my fingers crossed for you.
Good luck!
Good luck! You’ll make it through.
OMG! Good luck! You’re going to do great–you’ve got a wonderful background of rigorous intellectual debate here on the Dope! Be sure to let us know how it goes–I’m already terrified over the idea and haven’t even started grad school yet. 
Good luck!
I avoided all that by quitting university and going to college and becoming a technologist instead of an engineer, but that’s probably not a good idea for you at this point. 
Good luck Scribble. If they pass the thesis, please post it.
Even more of the good luck stuff.
Good luck! Dont forget to wear clothes and stuff!
I’m hearing flute music.
wee oh wee oh weee! Wah wah wah.
Then the clinking of spurs. A shadow crosses our view down a dusty street.
Scribble, dressed in black, with a rolled up scroll bound to his belt. Low, and tied down a the knee. He wears a hat, slouched down over his face. Only his mouth, and the cigarette dangling from his lips are visible.
Three disreputable professors stand in a row, at the end of the street.
The dry wind blows the dust across the street between them.
The Church tower shows a clock. The minute hand stands just short of high noon.
Lots of luck, Scribble!
Tris
Good luck! I’m going to be doing this myself in a few months, and I’m already nervous. The lord alone knows how I will be on the day. Having said that, I’m sure you’ll do well. Good luck again!
Ah, Triskadecamus, if I correctly remember Scribble from the Doper Valentines Exchange a few years ago, I think you have the gender wrong.
Good Fortune, Scribble!
Best of luck, Scribble!
Good luck, Scribble!
The trick is to keep talking and do not let the comittee get a chance to ask question, just talk them down
Sending lucky thoughts your way!
Good luck!
break a…binder clip! Or something…
Good luck!
One of the coolest and, therefore, most relaxing things about a master’s defense is that no one, and I mean no one, knows more about the subject material than you. You’ve had months if not years to digest and weigh every angle. You’ve probably done this a dozen times in you head already with great success and to much acclaim. Now, just go in there and spill the beans.
So. It’s 3PM Eastern Time. Have you survived?