Over the last few days, I should have been throwing out the detritus of the last ten years of my life.
Actually, it's been the last forty or more years.
My undergraduate essays. My finals revision notes. Even some of my sixth form essays. My unfinished PhD thesis. That was really hard. All the card index boxes, the fieldwork diaries, the boxes and boxes of taped interviews with insiders. It was going to be quite ground-breaking. But I set off down another path, and idly nursed the idea that I was going to sit down and complete it one day. I thought it was that good. And no-one's ever gone down that research path.
So it did take me twenty two years to come to terms with the fact that, no, I was just not going to do that. If I feel like acquiring a doctorate, it'd be a lot faster and quicker to start from scratch.