Now that I've settled on Paris as my postdoc destination, the hard part begins — the mad rush towards graduation. As I'm working feverishly in the lab and on my computer, trying to compile four years' data into a cohesive ‘story’, I pray that my thesis committee decides that I've done enough. But how much is enough?

Only my thesis committee can answer that question. I am completely at their mercy. Counting on them to guide me through my defence feels like falling backwards with my eyes closed and trusting the four committee members to catch me before I hit the ground. This abdication of control is a little hard to swallow, but I have no choice other than to go with the committee's collective judgement.

For some students, this does not come easily. I've heard horror stories about hard-line advisers black-balling students for years over seemingly frivolous details. As my decisive committee meeting approaches, I feel fortunate because I respect my committee members and have grown quite close to some of them. I'm grateful for their guidance, and I just hope they steer me through a smooth defence and let me move on by this summer. There's a chocolate croissant with my name on it somewhere in Paris and I'm anxious to take a bite.