Crushing Workload = Freakout

So, I had this semester's first one-on-one meeting with my advisor today.  She's actually a very nice person to talk to, so that much of the equation wasn't a problem.  But then we started laying out exactly what I need to get done this Fall.  I was very suave about suppressing the urge to start screaming after that.

I've mentioned the quals issue.  The initial outline is due to my quals committee in two weeks.  That's over two hundred sources organized by topic in logical (flowing) order.  The actual writing of the 80 page paper (without the 20-odd pages of references) will all happen in October, with revisions occurring in November before I defend in December.

Also due in two weeks are the abstracts for two research projects I'm submitting for acceptance at the annual American Association of Suicidology conference next April.  One of the projects is already done.  The other one, however, means that I'll be running a confirmatory factor analysis tomorrow (Saturday) up at the school.  And I've never even seen the data set before.  Yay!!  Of course that project will also be turned into a manuscript suitable for publishing by the end of the semester with me as the lead author.  Of course.

Next Monday (one week from Labor Day) I am giving a one-hour powerpoint presentation in my Cognitive Behavioral Therapy course that is worth something like 30% of my final grade.  I really need to start reading the material that I'll be covering (the assignment was just given Monday). 

This Tuesday my own students are handing in their first essays of the semester. I'll have to figure out how to critique and grade all 25 of them by Thursday. 

Then of course there's my regular schedule of clients that I see every week - and there's my one morning spent recruiting for my mentor's research project.

At the end of the meeting my advisor looked at what I had to do and said that my weekends and evenings probably just went up in smoke.  But then she added that it wasn't as bad as the workloads that some grad students take on, so it was doable.  Never once did she verbally recognize that unlike any other grad student in the clinical psychology program, I have three young children at home who need a Daddy (there are two other students who have one child).  Nor did she recognize that I have a wife at home that needs help with said young children.  I have no doubt those realities never crossed her mind.  But hey, that's my problem, not hers. 

Hmmmm . . . I don't think my novel will be getting much love over the next three months.  It will be miracle enough if my family does.