Word: heather
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...better shape right now than Flaine. Why, you ought to get at least a magna." Heather snorted. The compliment was too obvious...
...wanted to hand it in to her adviser by early morning. Stuart agreed, but when he returned two hours later, the chapter was still in the typewriter. Dawn was breaking by the time she finished writing and revising, and Stuart was curled up on her couch. Heather nudged him, but he was in a deep sleep and only groaned and turned his head. She covered him with a quilt and walked to Littauer by herself. In the Yard an old woman was feeding bread crusts to the pigeons and a long jogger was blowing steam into the air. Heather picked...
...Heather felt the minutes slip past her too fast to be exhilarated about finishing her rough draft. She was typing her own thesis onto the computer in Littauer's basement--doing that, she supposed, would allow her to type what would become a final draft and yet make revisions. The computer, moreover, automatically numbered footnotes and put them at the bottom of pages. Heather figured that since she had taken Nat Sci 110 as a freshman, she could breeze through the preliminaries of learning how to operate the text-editing language. And at five pages an hour, she figured...
...Heather had grabbed a terminal that morning and refused to relinquish it. She had 40 pages to type into her files that day, pages she wanted to cut and edit and perfect, but she was running out of time. The chances of being able to print anything out that day dimmed, and Heather had a vision that she would have to enlist every friend she had on Wednesday night to type the entire thesis because the printer was exhausted. She swore she'd tell every junior she knew never, never to try to type a thesis onto the computer...
...Stuart and Elaine at Brigham's. Flaine had just sent her conclusion to a typist. She was talking in monosyllables, her eves bloodshot and dazed, since the effects of the coffee and speed she'd been downing all weekend were just beginning to wear off. Heather envied her: She had to trudge back to Littauer, and Flaine could go to sleep. Heather would have givern her first-born for six hours of sleep. It was the evening and the morning of the fourth all-nighter...