My gloating from the last post came back to haunt me. Never gloat, because comeuppance is a bitch.

So, I used multiple scales in my diss data collection in order to assess a number of different constructs. I had three scales in particular (for our purposes, let’s call them A, B, and C) that I used to assess one particular construct (let’s call it…um…cognitive closure…yeah). I liked A and B a lot, but I was kind of on the fence about C. Did it really assess cognitive closure, or was it really included because it had some strong correlations with Scale A? But, I figured it might reveal some unique information, and the literature I read about it was interesting, so I stopped worrying.

Earlier today I was reading an article about the theory behind Scale C. I have read this article about a dozen times already, and could quote it extensively, if I had to. I read the items from the scale developed from the theory, and then I compared it to what I used in my survey, and FUCK ME if it didn’t match. Ohhhhh shit.

It turns out that I used a totally different, although related, scale that correlates pretty strongly to Scale C. All the while, I thought it was scale C, when it wasn’t. Then I find out that this scale (we’ll call it Scale D), consists of items from two totally different scales (we’ll call them E and F). This means I have a lot more to read, some writing to erase, and more writing to do. Just when I think I’m on track to get things done easily and on time, life throws me a curveball of flaming dog shit.

I dread telling my advisor what I’ve done. Even if he doesn’t have a thrombo, I am going to feel like a complete dee for making such a fucking stupid mistake. He’s not likely to have a thrombo, so I just get to feel like a moron. Oh, the shame!

Eh, fuck that noise, I’m going to bed. Tomorrow is another day.