Thesis Nightmare: Is it too early for that?

I'm in a metaphorical football game. I've just hiked myself the ball and the plan is that I'm gonna run it – all the way. It's a tough run, I block myself from tackling myself several times. I'm gaining considerable yardage as the calls come closer and closer to leveling my momentum. I'm playing hard – I'm a "gamer" as they say. I reach my goal and spike the ball in a triumphant and manly downward stroke – as if I own the joint. The apposing team and its' administration crowd around me. It's made of smart, muscle-bound, 8-foot tall critics who are angrily pointing out that I've run in the wrong direction. I've run the ball directly into the sidelines of the apposing team. The overwhelming sound of thousands of people spontaneously bursting into energetic conversation with their neighbors floods the stadium as I'm washed away in it. Pointing fingers and hands thrown in the air of confusion lap my body as I rock uncontrollably in an ocean of dumb questions. My voice grows in a chorus-like mantra, harmonizing with the crowds babble, "these are the questions stimulated by your work, these are the questions..." Whirlpooling around the stadium-turned-funnel, I'm sucked through a tiny hole in the field of play. Lucky for me, the hole closes emitting only myself and an anonymous fans giant, foam pointy-finger. It's sitting in tall grass, pointing at me with the words, "YOU RULE!" printed across the knuckles. 11 beautiful women in white sun-dresses approach from behind me. They all want to put a hand on me and sit very close. They don't talk to me – they only talk to each other – in giggles. The Sun is at about 4:30PM on a beautiful summer day. The temperature's perfect – slightly warm with a cooling breeze. The air is a soft visible blanket of refracted light that stretches for miles across the grassy hills before us. My football team arrives – they're all sweaty versions of myself. Quarter-back me drops the ball and looses himself in the pile of women around me. My other team-mates follow suit while just over the hill in every direction, I notice the advancing heads of a beautiful, blonde army of girls. Then I realize they're all my girlfriend and they're armed with genital seeking heat-lasers. They ruthlessly open fire on my team-mates – castrating them one by one. I've been hypnotized by the version of my girlfriend directly in front of me as she trudges on towards me. She's the scariest because her aim is unmatched by the surrounding clones. She's the only one in the girlfriend army firing on the girls as she looks me dead in the eye. Alone on my back, lying in a lake of fire, she stands over me like a guerilla soldier wrapped in ammunition. She quietly scans the perimeter with her eyes and suddenly I feel safe and pure in the realization that I'm dating a Terminator robot.