Let me actually be on the edge of a breakthrough with this paper.
I have what is essentially a complete draft - and it is terrible. I came to the library, where I am now, between film screenings, to try and finish it up. And I realized just how deeply, deeply, it sucked. Like, truly deeply. It says nothing. It is pointless blather with no argument. I was sososososo despairing, and thoughts about my imminent and spectacular scholarly failure overcame me - predictable fraud-thoughts: "Why did a good, research uni like this hire me? Iam feeble-minded. I'll never be able to publish anything again, and I'll never get tenure. I am sunk!"
So despairing was I - I am really running out of time with this paper - that I decided just to go and try to calm myself with a cup of tea. I had exited the conference paper's file and was just about to shut down the computer when I was struck by some thoughts. I opened up Word again and quickly typed up notes, to remind myself when I open up the beast again tomorrow. Then I went to the bathroom, and in there I had a related chain of insights. I immediately scurried to one of those leather chairs to scribble them down in my paper notebook.
Oh, I so so so hope that this will lead somewhere, and that it won't involve rewriting the whole thing. Ack. I'm so nervous and worried, I could eat my own arm.