Lordy, Lordy. This is insane.
My thesis director loved my paper. I mean, he really, really liked it, and gave me a good grade (that I was completely not expecting). He may use part of it for some sort of publication he's working on, but I'm not exactly sure what he means by all that (I started zoning when he was talking about it because it involved some sort of dialogue-reading software...?).
Then he even went so far as to say that he really couldn't think of any criticism whatsoever, which I believe is the first and last time I will ever believe a Frenchie when they say that.
So he almost freakishly praised it, and then asked me if I would consider continuing working on the same topic at the doctorate level. I bathed in the praise so much that I almost forgot how much I hated the researching/writing of the damn thing, and I found myself thinking, "Hey, a doctorate could be good..."
But Christ, I think if there is one thing I have learned in this experience, it would be: think before you go for the doctorate, yo.
The other thing I learned is: less work + less stress = better outcome in less time. It's a curious equation, I know, but I found it to be true in this case.
Regardless, this was my favorite thing, of all things my professor said: "This is so well-written, so clear, precise, and scientific, that it's obvious whoever wrote it did not go through French schooling."
So in the end, I have a fancy diploma from a fancy school (perhaps even with some fancy honors?) that I won't do much of anything with. But still. I can actually say that I'm proud of this. I'm sort of uncomfortable with the feeling, but there you have it.