jrockford27

That depends on what you want to do with your life. Disclaimer: I've never done an MFA but have friends who have/are.
 To state the obvious, and something I'm sure you already know, the expectations between writing a dissertation and writing an MFA thesis are wildly different.  While it might depend on your committee, a dissertation isn't likely to satisfy your appetite for memoiristic writing (I had a bit of that in dissertation initially, but had to cut it to make room for... you guessed it, more theory and analysis). The dissertation form traditionally does not allow for a lot of stylistic experimentation or inventiveness, as its purpose is (generally speaking) to be a work of lengthy, rigorous, and original research that makes a contribution to, and is in dialogue with the field.  For better or worse, that has generally come to mean a very specific kind of work and specific kind of writing.  
Of course, if/when I get to convert my diss into a book, I intend to restore the more personal, memoiristic touches, if my hypothetical editors approve. Fortunately there is a wide (usually very wide) gap between your dissertation, and the book you'll ultimately publish. But you may be delaying the gratification of realizing that goal for 4-6 years after you defend your dissertation. PhD time is glacial, it seems to me, compared to MFA time.
Likewise, if you don't like teaching English comp, then you're going to have a rough go at most English grad programs. That said, I know many grad students who vocalize their dislike for teaching comp, and even teaching generally, and still seem to be successful in their programs.
Based on your interests, it really sounds like the MFA is the way to go.  The best thing about the MFA in comparison is that it usually takes less than half as long as a PhD, and so depending on your age you'll still have plenty of life left to pursue a PhD if you want it. My PhD program is chockablock with MFA holders.

That depends on what you want to do with your life. Disclaimer: I've never done an MFA but have friends who have/are.
 To state the obvious, and something I'm sure you already know, the expectations between writing a dissertation and writing an MFA thesis are wildly different.  While it might depend on your committee, a dissertation isn't likely to satisfy your appetite for memoiristic writing (I had a bit of that in dissertation initially, but had to cut it to make room for... you guessed it, more theory and analysis). The dissertation form traditionally does not allow for a lot of stylistic experimentation or inventiveness, as its purpose is (generally speaking) to be a work of lengthy, rigorous, and original research that makes a contribution to, and is in dialogue with the field.  For better or worse, that has generally come to mean a very specific kind of work and specific kind of writing.  
Of course, if/when I get to convert my diss into a book, I intend to restore the more personal, memoiristic touches, if my hypothetical editors approve. Fortunately there is a wide (usually very wide) gap between your dissertation, and the book you'll ultimately publish. But you may be delaying the gratification of realizing that goal for 4-6 years after you defend your dissertation. PhD time is glacial, it seems to me, compared to MFA time.
Likewise, if you don't like teaching English comp, then you're going to have a rough go at most English grad programs. That said, I know many grad students who vocalize their dislike for teaching comp, and even teaching generally, and still seem to be successful in their programs.
Based on your interests, it really sounds like the MFA is the way to go.  The best thing about the MFA in comparison is that it usually takes less than half as long as a PhD, and so depending on your age you'll still have plenty of life left to pursue a PhD if you want it. My PhD program is chockablock with MFA holders.

That depends on what you want to do with your life. Disclaimer: I've never done an MFA but have friends who have/are.
 To state the obvious, and something I'm sure you already know, the expectations between writing a dissertation and writing an MFA thesis are wildly different.  While it might depend on your committee, a dissertation isn't likely to satisfy your appetite for memoiristic writing (I had a bit of that in dissertation initially, but had to cut it to make room for... you guessed it, more theory and analysis). The dissertation form traditionally does not allow for a lot of stylistic experimentation or inventiveness, as its purpose is (generally speaking) to be a work of lengthy, rigorous, and original research that makes a contribution to, and is in dialogue with the field.  For better or worse, that has generally come to mean a very specific kind of work and specific kind of writing.  
Of course, if/when I get to convert my diss into a book, I intend to restore the more personal, memoiristic touches, if my hypothetical editors approve. Fortunately there is a wide (usually very wide) gap between your dissertation, and the book you'll ultimately publish. But you may be delaying the gratification of realizing that goal for 4-6 years after you defend your dissertation. PhD time is glacial, it seems to me, compared to MFA time.
Likewise, if you don't like teaching English comp, then you're going to have a rough go at most English grad programs. That said, I know many grad students who vocalize their dislike for teaching comp, and even teaching generally, and still seem to be successful in their programs.
Based on your interests, it really sounds like the MFA is the way to go.  The best thing about the MFA in comparison is that it usually takes less than half as long as a PhD, and so depending on your age you'll still have plenty of life left to pursue a PhD if you want it. My PhD program is chockablock with MFA holders.

I don't think it's true that you MUST attend them for your PhD application, but it can't hurt, especially as an MA student. Your graduate conference should be just fine. 
That said, I don't think conference presentations, strong personal statements, and a good writing sample are mutually exclusive.  When you're a PhD student you'll be expected to be preparing conference papers, writing your papers/dissertation, working on fellowship/job applications, and potentially teaching all at once; and you'll be expected to do all of those things well!
I would also recommend to suppress your "cynical" skepticism of professionalization, as that is not going to look good either in your applications or when you actually show up to begin your program. Academia is definitely a profession, if your goal is to pursue a fiercely independent life of the mind in my experience academia is probably not a good place to do it.  In any case, going to conferences isn't just a matter of getting a CV line, conferences are where you go to connect with other like-minded scholars and figure out what's going on in your field/subfield. The CV line at least demonstrates the possibility that you're interested in being a part of a broader intellectual community, and not just someone who wants to hole up in a dimly lit room and write a dissertation.

I don't think it's true that you MUST attend them for your PhD application, but it can't hurt, especially as an MA student. Your graduate conference should be just fine. 
That said, I don't think conference presentations, strong personal statements, and a good writing sample are mutually exclusive.  When you're a PhD student you'll be expected to be preparing conference papers, writing your papers/dissertation, working on fellowship/job applications, and potentially teaching all at once; and you'll be expected to do all of those things well!
I would also recommend to suppress your "cynical" skepticism of professionalization, as that is not going to look good either in your applications or when you actually show up to begin your program. Academia is definitely a profession, if your goal is to pursue a fiercely independent life of the mind in my experience academia is probably not a good place to do it.  In any case, going to conferences isn't just a matter of getting a CV line, conferences are where you go to connect with other like-minded scholars and figure out what's going on in your field/subfield. The CV line at least demonstrates the possibility that you're interested in being a part of a broader intellectual community, and not just someone who wants to hole up in a dimly lit room and write a dissertation.

There was a lengthy post about this on this very subforum a few months ago, so you're definitely not the only person thinking about this.
I have a dog.  I know lots of grad students with dogs in my program, some of them have more than one!  Like anything there are advantages and disadvantages.
I think you're at an advantage since this is a dog that comes (presumably) trained, and that you're familiar with. I think the worst part about getting our dog was that my fiancé (who is also a PhD student) and I got just about zero work done the first three weeks we had him. I'll try to focus on things specific to grad school since it sounds like you already know the basics of dog stuff.
Depending on the dog's energy level, you may find that you have to settle into a more routine work schedule based on the puppo's needs.  If I haven't finished everything I need to get done that day by 5:00 p.m. it's tough shit, because the dog wakes up about that time and demands validation as a dog.  He may also wake up in the middle of the day and decide it's time to play, sometimes these breaks are a relief, sometimes they're a benefit to my intellectual work, and sometimes they're a total pain in the ass. If you're like me, and as an undergrad you got used to doing your academic work in huge chunks, marathon work sessions, etc., that doesn't fly when you have a dog.  Luckily for me, I was already phasing myself out of that way of working anyway.
Being a good department citizen means attending meetings, talks, seminars, etc. that will definitely make your schedule irregular, and I know my dog hates deviations from routine.  
Another big thing is money, while the day-to-day of dog ownership doesn't cost all that much, you're going to be living on a grad student stipend and every little bit counts.  We make it work, but our dog had an E.R. visit recently (don't worry, he's fine) and the cost was a punch in the gut for our meager grad student finances.   
I think the biggest thing is though, that before I became a grad student, I never thought of 30 minutes of my day here and there as being valuable.  But 2-3 walks a day, plus care and playing adds up and definitely becomes noticeable.
All in all, I'm glad I have a dog, and I think a lot of grad students I know have them, but it is definitely an added challenge.  Think of it this way though, some people do this with kids!  

I don't think it's true that you MUST attend them for your PhD application, but it can't hurt, especially as an MA student. Your graduate conference should be just fine. 
That said, I don't think conference presentations, strong personal statements, and a good writing sample are mutually exclusive.  When you're a PhD student you'll be expected to be preparing conference papers, writing your papers/dissertation, working on fellowship/job applications, and potentially teaching all at once; and you'll be expected to do all of those things well!
I would also recommend to suppress your "cynical" skepticism of professionalization, as that is not going to look good either in your applications or when you actually show up to begin your program. Academia is definitely a profession, if your goal is to pursue a fiercely independent life of the mind in my experience academia is probably not a good place to do it.  In any case, going to conferences isn't just a matter of getting a CV line, conferences are where you go to connect with other like-minded scholars and figure out what's going on in your field/subfield. The CV line at least demonstrates the possibility that you're interested in being a part of a broader intellectual community, and not just someone who wants to hole up in a dimly lit room and write a dissertation.

Everything above is correct. I would add a couple of things. 
First is, if you've never done a major conference before, consider targeting graduate conferences.  The stakes are lower, and the environment is more easy going. They might also be a better use of your resources, since you're more likely to be accepted. The acceptance rates for the major conferences can be very low, and even top flight scholars can get rejected, so if it's very important to you to get the line on the CV think about where your resources are best applied. It isn't going to be important that you have major field conferences on your CV until you go on the job market.
On the subject of "presenting a new paper or one you've already written," I tend to think that every conference paper is a "new" paper because the conference paper is a completely different genre than most other forms of academic writing.  You may have a seminar paper you think would be a good fit for a conference, but remember, you're only going to get about 20 minutes, so you're going to have to hack that seminar paper down by 50-70% or so to make it fit, depending on how long the seminar paper is and how fast you talk. (130 words per minute is a good pace to shoot for). You'll want to massage the language to make sure that it 'listens' better. So you may get the *idea* of your conference talk from a paper you've already written, but it will help you to think of your proposal as a new project.
I would also add, that if your paper addresses visual matter at all, USE SLIDES!  As a film scholar this one gets me. Good god, there's no reason why, at a conference talk in 2018, I should be listening to a person waste 60 valuable seconds of conference paper time describing an image or film clip that that they could have just shown us on the screen. This goes for sound too.  Images should do heavy lifting for you, why use up words when you can show it? (this is with the caveat that you should always contextualize an image you show on a slide, and this will probably require some small amount of description, or drawing the audience's attention to particular details).
I think it's good practice in any case to at least have a slide with the title of your talk, your name/affiliation, and e-mail address.  Lengthy high theoretical quotes are a good cause for a slide as well (and perhaps the only case in which I think it's okay to violate the 'don't just read what's on the slide' rule). Your audience will pick up the nuances of that Deleuze quote a lot better if they can read it along with you. Twenty minutes is a long time, and even experienced scholars can lose focus, changing slides keeps the brain cued to your talk, and engages more of the audience's sensorium, so find a way to use them. That said, make sure you know the tech setup as far in advance as possible, and try to create as many technological redundancies as you can, and have a plan in case the technology fails. I was giving a talk at a major film conference and the audio for some of my major clips failed, fortunately I was familiar enough with the clips in question that I was able to narrate them myself.  I've seen talks absolutely fall to pieces when the tech fails.
Practice your talk, with others if you can, but alone too.  Make sure you are under time, nothing will erode the good will of your audience and fellow panelists more quickly than if you run over. No one will complain or even think twice if your talk comes in at 18 minutes.  Remember, the Q & A will give you a chance to expand on things. Think of the questions you least want to be asked and formulate answers for them, nobody will actually ask those questions, but it's a good intellectual exercise.  

I don't think it's true that you MUST attend them for your PhD application, but it can't hurt, especially as an MA student. Your graduate conference should be just fine. 
That said, I don't think conference presentations, strong personal statements, and a good writing sample are mutually exclusive.  When you're a PhD student you'll be expected to be preparing conference papers, writing your papers/dissertation, working on fellowship/job applications, and potentially teaching all at once; and you'll be expected to do all of those things well!
I would also recommend to suppress your "cynical" skepticism of professionalization, as that is not going to look good either in your applications or when you actually show up to begin your program. Academia is definitely a profession, if your goal is to pursue a fiercely independent life of the mind in my experience academia is probably not a good place to do it.  In any case, going to conferences isn't just a matter of getting a CV line, conferences are where you go to connect with other like-minded scholars and figure out what's going on in your field/subfield. The CV line at least demonstrates the possibility that you're interested in being a part of a broader intellectual community, and not just someone who wants to hole up in a dimly lit room and write a dissertation.

The best bet for this kind of work would be to find a funded MA somewhere. While there are exceptions, if your goal is to beef up your profile so you can improve your PhD applications the best place to do this is in an academic setting. There's very little you can do to help your PhD app in a gap year that can't be better accomplished in a funded MA program.
I'm not a financial adviser, but it seems like not such a good idea to enroll in a pricey masters program that you don't know anything about (by your own admission) in order to defer your student loan payments. I'm also confused why you would go for an MA in Philosophy, as that isn't likely to help you get in an English/Comp Lit program (unless you meant to post this on the Philosophy board); why not try and do it in English/Comp Lit.  If your goal is to get a PhD in English, you can find programs where you'll be allowed to write enough about Freud and Psychoanalysis to get a PhD in English (in fact, my understanding of philosophy programs is that Freud and poststructuralism aren't often well regarded objects of study).
Your book project actually sounds like it would be your dissertation proposal for a PhD program.  Also, why the rush for 2019?  Many MA programs will take you two years.
 
 

There was a lengthy post about this on this very subforum a few months ago, so you're definitely not the only person thinking about this.
I have a dog.  I know lots of grad students with dogs in my program, some of them have more than one!  Like anything there are advantages and disadvantages.
I think you're at an advantage since this is a dog that comes (presumably) trained, and that you're familiar with. I think the worst part about getting our dog was that my fiancé (who is also a PhD student) and I got just about zero work done the first three weeks we had him. I'll try to focus on things specific to grad school since it sounds like you already know the basics of dog stuff.
Depending on the dog's energy level, you may find that you have to settle into a more routine work schedule based on the puppo's needs.  If I haven't finished everything I need to get done that day by 5:00 p.m. it's tough shit, because the dog wakes up about that time and demands validation as a dog.  He may also wake up in the middle of the day and decide it's time to play, sometimes these breaks are a relief, sometimes they're a benefit to my intellectual work, and sometimes they're a total pain in the ass. If you're like me, and as an undergrad you got used to doing your academic work in huge chunks, marathon work sessions, etc., that doesn't fly when you have a dog.  Luckily for me, I was already phasing myself out of that way of working anyway.
Being a good department citizen means attending meetings, talks, seminars, etc. that will definitely make your schedule irregular, and I know my dog hates deviations from routine.  
Another big thing is money, while the day-to-day of dog ownership doesn't cost all that much, you're going to be living on a grad student stipend and every little bit counts.  We make it work, but our dog had an E.R. visit recently (don't worry, he's fine) and the cost was a punch in the gut for our meager grad student finances.   
I think the biggest thing is though, that before I became a grad student, I never thought of 30 minutes of my day here and there as being valuable.  But 2-3 walks a day, plus care and playing adds up and definitely becomes noticeable.
All in all, I'm glad I have a dog, and I think a lot of grad students I know have them, but it is definitely an added challenge.  Think of it this way though, some people do this with kids!  

The best bet for this kind of work would be to find a funded MA somewhere. While there are exceptions, if your goal is to beef up your profile so you can improve your PhD applications the best place to do this is in an academic setting. There's very little you can do to help your PhD app in a gap year that can't be better accomplished in a funded MA program.
I'm not a financial adviser, but it seems like not such a good idea to enroll in a pricey masters program that you don't know anything about (by your own admission) in order to defer your student loan payments. I'm also confused why you would go for an MA in Philosophy, as that isn't likely to help you get in an English/Comp Lit program (unless you meant to post this on the Philosophy board); why not try and do it in English/Comp Lit.  If your goal is to get a PhD in English, you can find programs where you'll be allowed to write enough about Freud and Psychoanalysis to get a PhD in English (in fact, my understanding of philosophy programs is that Freud and poststructuralism aren't often well regarded objects of study).
Your book project actually sounds like it would be your dissertation proposal for a PhD program.  Also, why the rush for 2019?  Many MA programs will take you two years.
 
 

Hi everyone, I just wanted to thank everybody once again for your advice and give you an update. I eventually applied to the Hudson Strode program at UA. I was accepted into the MA program and I'm thrilled to say I'll be moving down to Tuscaloosa this fall. Now I just have to find an apartment!

I deal with some of the same issues you do (including attention deficit, anxiety, depression) but over the last few years of grad school I've managed to refine my methods, maybe some of this will help.
First.  I find that a solid work schedule begins and ends with a solid sleep pattern, because this helps you establish a routine which I think is so important to dealing with some of these mental health issues.  If I go to bed on time, and wake up on time, the day goes well.  If I stay up too late and oversleep, surprise surprise, I have a hard time even getting grounded and it can be very hard to recover.  Have a routine, and have set work hours.  It doesn't matter if you work from 11am-7pm, 9am-5pm, or 9pm-5am, routine is important.  If you're struggling with getting to classes and meetings, pick a set of working hours amenable to that.  Keep that time sacred for work (though remember to take a break here and there - though don't get too far afield).  If you're like me, and struggle with focus, there are apps for that!  Don't rapidly snap into this new routine overnight, work your way up to it.  I find that even on the weekend I only deviate slightly from this sleep schedule, I shoot for 7 hours of sleep each night, your body may have different needs.
Second.  Protect some time for non-work stuff and keep that sacred as well.  Don't buy into the myth that you should be putting in 70 hours of solid work each week.  Nobody is really doing that, and even if they are, there is plenty evidence to suggest that working in small, intense bursts actually produces better output than dragging out your workday for the sake of being able to comfortably say you logged a lot of hours.  If you have nothing to look forward to then it will be very hard to stay committed to your work.
Third.  Never go into anything as important as a day in your life without a plan.  Even if you wake up and finish your breakfast and walk your dog and you're just itching to sit down and write until your fingers bleed, take some time to plan out your day.  I have used checklists, but I've found that I've had more success after I bought a small lined notepad.  Each day, I mark out the clock hours I'm going to work, each line represents a 30 minute increment, and I visualize how my time will be spent, accounting for time spent on the bus or walking from place to place, as well as any breaks.  Each day starts with a 30 minute block I label "planning/prep", in which I check my e-mail, check and update my planner, get any old coffee cups off my desk, and get whatever books or materials I'm going to need for the day.  After that, I turn on my website blocking app for the next 6-7 hours and I work.
Fourth.  Try doing creative/intense intellectual work in short, highly focused bursts.  There are studies that show that even highly trained and experienced experts in various skills have a very very finite amount of mental energy/willpower that they can expend on their practice before they start to see diminishing returns.  Since I've started actually producing my dissertation, I limit my actual writing time to two very intense 90-120 minute chunks of writing each day.  I've found that I'm having quite a bit of success this way.  In a typical day, I begin at 9:30 a.m., I take care of prep stuff and everyday tasks until 10, I then write until about noon, at which time I take a 30-60 minute break to eat, walk the dog, etc.  I then write for another 90-120 minutes.  These minutes of writing, of course, are focused and intense (I don't check e-mail, don't use my phone, etc., just write).  I then leave the rest of the day for reading and research, or other less intellectually demanding stuff.  I always take the last 15 minutes of the day to close everything down, make some notes on what I need to do tomorrow, and then I take like five minutes or so to just close my eyes, breathe, and disengage from the work.  The strategy of short, intense, flurries of output takes some practice, but I think is ultimately far more rewarding than the drawn out days I used to spend at my desk distracted and despondent.  If you're still in coursework, you may have to alter this formula slightly in order to keep up on reading and seminar prep, which is demanding in a somewhat different way, but I think the principle still holds true.
It goes without saying that this is a very fragile system, it takes some discipline to adhere to.  I have really excellent productive weeks using it.  There are also some weeks that nothing seems to go right with it, and I can't get a groove.  Consistency is key, good days beget good days, good weeks beget good weeks.  If there is something disruptive coming up like a holiday, or a conference, or research travel prepare yourself for it and figure out how you'll get your groove back when you return. I can't stress enough that the strongest indicator I can find as to whether a week is good or bad is a consistent sleep pattern that helps lock the routine in place.  Also, finding a workspace conducive to highly focused work is essential as well.
There is a book I've found very helpful called Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World by Dr. Cal Newport.  Some of the strategies I talk about in this post come from that, though most are modifications of things I was already working about.  What Newport provides is a solid well researched basis for these strategies and ways of refining them.  It's not geared toward academics, but the author is a professor at Georgetown so the strategies are actually rooted in his academic life.  It's not without its problematic aspects, but overall very helpful. 

1. It is worth it to apply to any program where you think you have a decent fit. It is not possible for you to truly evaluate your chance of getting in because there are a number of factors totally outside of your control that could greatly help or hurt your application, most importantly, who happens to be on the adcom that year (also, for example, the current disciplinary makeup of their grad population, the disciplinary makeup of the other people who applied, and so on).
2.  There is no such thing as a "safety" school. All English PhD programs have low acceptance rates. There are people who get accepted to top 10 schools but get rejected by schools in the 20s and 30s.  If you truly look at all schools that seem to be a good fit for your interests you are likely to come up with a list that has a broad cross section of school rankings.  That said, if you find your list reads something like "Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Berkeley, Chicago, Stanford" you might consider wanting to cast a wider net. Don't treat any school like it's a "reach" or a "safety."
3. I think most people who come through here apply to between 7 and 13 schools.  You do have the odd outliers who apply to 20 schools, and some folks who apply to only 2 or 3.
4.  "Pedigree" matters in hiring but it is not the most important thing. There are people doing fascinating, high quality work at all manner of schools. Oftentimes the reputation of your adviser can be more important than the reputation of the school.  Think about sub-disciplines you're interested in, as you might be surprised.  A few years ago SUNY Buffalo, a school in the 30s overall was listed in the top 10 of literary theory, though they recently fell out (presumably owed to the loss of Joan Copjec).  Schools with better "pedigrees" tend to have a lot more money to throw at you for stipends, travel grants, research, etc. That said, as a person at a school that ranks in the 30s overall but is a top school in my subfield, I have never really hurt for those things (though more money for conference travel would be nice, but most grad students go to too many conferences anyway).

I live in a reasonably priced mid-sized major metropolitan area. I have no kids.  I have lived with my fiancé the last four years.
My experience is that we manage to live almost as nicely as we'd like, we aren't starving, we eat well, we can run our heater at a modest rate in the winter.  We also are unable to put aside any money for savings. If one of our cars broke down we wouldn't be able to fix it probably (losing a shoe for want of a nail, comes to mind). To buy a new dress shirt is a major luxury. I've been able to buy one new suit (a relatively cheap one) in five years of grad school, and while you might think of this as trivial, I'd ask you, what do you intend to wear to your job interviews/conferences? Things like new shoes become major investments. You learn to take care of what you have, and to fix things yourself.
Let us say nothing of what happens when your computer inevitably dies.
So to sum up my experience. Day-to-day we live like fine, reasonable adults, but you have little room for error or extras (or savings), which definitely creates a nagging subliminal stress on our day-to-day fine living.
 
 

I deal with some of the same issues you do (including attention deficit, anxiety, depression) but over the last few years of grad school I've managed to refine my methods, maybe some of this will help.
First.  I find that a solid work schedule begins and ends with a solid sleep pattern, because this helps you establish a routine which I think is so important to dealing with some of these mental health issues.  If I go to bed on time, and wake up on time, the day goes well.  If I stay up too late and oversleep, surprise surprise, I have a hard time even getting grounded and it can be very hard to recover.  Have a routine, and have set work hours.  It doesn't matter if you work from 11am-7pm, 9am-5pm, or 9pm-5am, routine is important.  If you're struggling with getting to classes and meetings, pick a set of working hours amenable to that.  Keep that time sacred for work (though remember to take a break here and there - though don't get too far afield).  If you're like me, and struggle with focus, there are apps for that!  Don't rapidly snap into this new routine overnight, work your way up to it.  I find that even on the weekend I only deviate slightly from this sleep schedule, I shoot for 7 hours of sleep each night, your body may have different needs.
Second.  Protect some time for non-work stuff and keep that sacred as well.  Don't buy into the myth that you should be putting in 70 hours of solid work each week.  Nobody is really doing that, and even if they are, there is plenty evidence to suggest that working in small, intense bursts actually produces better output than dragging out your workday for the sake of being able to comfortably say you logged a lot of hours.  If you have nothing to look forward to then it will be very hard to stay committed to your work.
Third.  Never go into anything as important as a day in your life without a plan.  Even if you wake up and finish your breakfast and walk your dog and you're just itching to sit down and write until your fingers bleed, take some time to plan out your day.  I have used checklists, but I've found that I've had more success after I bought a small lined notepad.  Each day, I mark out the clock hours I'm going to work, each line represents a 30 minute increment, and I visualize how my time will be spent, accounting for time spent on the bus or walking from place to place, as well as any breaks.  Each day starts with a 30 minute block I label "planning/prep", in which I check my e-mail, check and update my planner, get any old coffee cups off my desk, and get whatever books or materials I'm going to need for the day.  After that, I turn on my website blocking app for the next 6-7 hours and I work.
Fourth.  Try doing creative/intense intellectual work in short, highly focused bursts.  There are studies that show that even highly trained and experienced experts in various skills have a very very finite amount of mental energy/willpower that they can expend on their practice before they start to see diminishing returns.  Since I've started actually producing my dissertation, I limit my actual writing time to two very intense 90-120 minute chunks of writing each day.  I've found that I'm having quite a bit of success this way.  In a typical day, I begin at 9:30 a.m., I take care of prep stuff and everyday tasks until 10, I then write until about noon, at which time I take a 30-60 minute break to eat, walk the dog, etc.  I then write for another 90-120 minutes.  These minutes of writing, of course, are focused and intense (I don't check e-mail, don't use my phone, etc., just write).  I then leave the rest of the day for reading and research, or other less intellectually demanding stuff.  I always take the last 15 minutes of the day to close everything down, make some notes on what I need to do tomorrow, and then I take like five minutes or so to just close my eyes, breathe, and disengage from the work.  The strategy of short, intense, flurries of output takes some practice, but I think is ultimately far more rewarding than the drawn out days I used to spend at my desk distracted and despondent.  If you're still in coursework, you may have to alter this formula slightly in order to keep up on reading and seminar prep, which is demanding in a somewhat different way, but I think the principle still holds true.
It goes without saying that this is a very fragile system, it takes some discipline to adhere to.  I have really excellent productive weeks using it.  There are also some weeks that nothing seems to go right with it, and I can't get a groove.  Consistency is key, good days beget good days, good weeks beget good weeks.  If there is something disruptive coming up like a holiday, or a conference, or research travel prepare yourself for it and figure out how you'll get your groove back when you return. I can't stress enough that the strongest indicator I can find as to whether a week is good or bad is a consistent sleep pattern that helps lock the routine in place.  Also, finding a workspace conducive to highly focused work is essential as well.
There is a book I've found very helpful called Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World by Dr. Cal Newport.  Some of the strategies I talk about in this post come from that, though most are modifications of things I was already working about.  What Newport provides is a solid well researched basis for these strategies and ways of refining them.  It's not geared toward academics, but the author is a professor at Georgetown so the strategies are actually rooted in his academic life.  It's not without its problematic aspects, but overall very helpful. 

I know the lie was pointless because the school wasn't going to rescind your acceptance if they'd learned you hadn't been accepted anywhere else, and it wouldn't result in you being treated worse than your colleagues.  As has been said here many times, there are people that get accepted to a school in the top 10 or top 5 who were rejected by schools in the 20s and 30s. This is common knowledge.  The professor was probably just curious, programs like to have that data so that they can know a bit more about their applicant pools.
My admittedly armchair psychoanalysis is that when you were asked, you had a moment of impostor syndrome panic (which happens to the best of us), and wanted to seem more impressive to your future advisor.  It is perfectly understandable, but, like so many other behaviors associated with impostor syndrome, is unnecessary and leads to unnecessary anxiety!  Going forward, just remember that they wouldn't have admitted you if they didn't think you were a smart person with a whole lot of potential who will fit nicely into their department culture.
He isn't going to find out. I can't think of a conversation in which it could possibly come up without really wracking my brain to concoct a series of coincidences. If he did find out, it's possible that he wouldn't want to be your advisor anymore, but I think that would speak to a lack of professional maturity and empathy that would not be becoming of an advisor anyway.  If it were me, I would probably chalk it up as one of many incidences I've experienced of an anxious graduate student having a gaffe and saying the wrong thing or behaving in a baffling or frustrating way. I would probably use it as a teaching/mentoring moment to prevent you feeling like you need to lie to me in the future. 
But you don't know this person, and you don't know how they'll react. It is exceptionally unlikely this will come up again as anything other than a joke at your dissertation defense.  So just bury it and move on.
 
 

I know the lie was pointless because the school wasn't going to rescind your acceptance if they'd learned you hadn't been accepted anywhere else, and it wouldn't result in you being treated worse than your colleagues.  As has been said here many times, there are people that get accepted to a school in the top 10 or top 5 who were rejected by schools in the 20s and 30s. This is common knowledge.  The professor was probably just curious, programs like to have that data so that they can know a bit more about their applicant pools.
My admittedly armchair psychoanalysis is that when you were asked, you had a moment of impostor syndrome panic (which happens to the best of us), and wanted to seem more impressive to your future advisor.  It is perfectly understandable, but, like so many other behaviors associated with impostor syndrome, is unnecessary and leads to unnecessary anxiety!  Going forward, just remember that they wouldn't have admitted you if they didn't think you were a smart person with a whole lot of potential who will fit nicely into their department culture.
He isn't going to find out. I can't think of a conversation in which it could possibly come up without really wracking my brain to concoct a series of coincidences. If he did find out, it's possible that he wouldn't want to be your advisor anymore, but I think that would speak to a lack of professional maturity and empathy that would not be becoming of an advisor anyway.  If it were me, I would probably chalk it up as one of many incidences I've experienced of an anxious graduate student having a gaffe and saying the wrong thing or behaving in a baffling or frustrating way. I would probably use it as a teaching/mentoring moment to prevent you feeling like you need to lie to me in the future. 
But you don't know this person, and you don't know how they'll react. It is exceptionally unlikely this will come up again as anything other than a joke at your dissertation defense.  So just bury it and move on.
 
 

I know the lie was pointless because the school wasn't going to rescind your acceptance if they'd learned you hadn't been accepted anywhere else, and it wouldn't result in you being treated worse than your colleagues.  As has been said here many times, there are people that get accepted to a school in the top 10 or top 5 who were rejected by schools in the 20s and 30s. This is common knowledge.  The professor was probably just curious, programs like to have that data so that they can know a bit more about their applicant pools.
My admittedly armchair psychoanalysis is that when you were asked, you had a moment of impostor syndrome panic (which happens to the best of us), and wanted to seem more impressive to your future advisor.  It is perfectly understandable, but, like so many other behaviors associated with impostor syndrome, is unnecessary and leads to unnecessary anxiety!  Going forward, just remember that they wouldn't have admitted you if they didn't think you were a smart person with a whole lot of potential who will fit nicely into their department culture.
He isn't going to find out. I can't think of a conversation in which it could possibly come up without really wracking my brain to concoct a series of coincidences. If he did find out, it's possible that he wouldn't want to be your advisor anymore, but I think that would speak to a lack of professional maturity and empathy that would not be becoming of an advisor anyway.  If it were me, I would probably chalk it up as one of many incidences I've experienced of an anxious graduate student having a gaffe and saying the wrong thing or behaving in a baffling or frustrating way. I would probably use it as a teaching/mentoring moment to prevent you feeling like you need to lie to me in the future. 
But you don't know this person, and you don't know how they'll react. It is exceptionally unlikely this will come up again as anything other than a joke at your dissertation defense.  So just bury it and move on.
 
 

I was born in raised in Minneapolis and did my undergrad at UMN.  While yes, it is cold, I'll go to bat for it every time. It rates at or near the top in every major quality of life survey. It has world class theaters, museums, concert venues, parks, and natural resources.  It's also a clean, green city with walkable neighborhoods and the best biking culture in the country. And even in the winter, believe it or not, people still go out and take advantage of these things.
I really wouldn't let climate play too huge a role in where you end up going. My fiancé was born and raised in southern California, when she first moved to our current (northern, cold-weather, midwestern) city it was a freezing, cold, wet, rainy day and she says she almost vomited because she didn't see how she could live here.  She's been here for 10 years now between undergrad, masters and PhD and she loves it here and would prefer not to leave (fortunately for me, her experience here has made her amenable to possibly moving to Minneapolis one day if we're lucky enough to get jobs there).
All of our major cities have their charm and their benefit, I wouldn't rule any of them out based on the weather.  If you don't get a good vibe from UW (not trying to convince you to attend is a big red flag) and don't see yourself fitting in at USC, these should be just as important.  Being cold for a few years but thriving academically is one thing, being warm but in a bad work environment seems much much worse to me.

I know the lie was pointless because the school wasn't going to rescind your acceptance if they'd learned you hadn't been accepted anywhere else, and it wouldn't result in you being treated worse than your colleagues.  As has been said here many times, there are people that get accepted to a school in the top 10 or top 5 who were rejected by schools in the 20s and 30s. This is common knowledge.  The professor was probably just curious, programs like to have that data so that they can know a bit more about their applicant pools.
My admittedly armchair psychoanalysis is that when you were asked, you had a moment of impostor syndrome panic (which happens to the best of us), and wanted to seem more impressive to your future advisor.  It is perfectly understandable, but, like so many other behaviors associated with impostor syndrome, is unnecessary and leads to unnecessary anxiety!  Going forward, just remember that they wouldn't have admitted you if they didn't think you were a smart person with a whole lot of potential who will fit nicely into their department culture.
He isn't going to find out. I can't think of a conversation in which it could possibly come up without really wracking my brain to concoct a series of coincidences. If he did find out, it's possible that he wouldn't want to be your advisor anymore, but I think that would speak to a lack of professional maturity and empathy that would not be becoming of an advisor anyway.  If it were me, I would probably chalk it up as one of many incidences I've experienced of an anxious graduate student having a gaffe and saying the wrong thing or behaving in a baffling or frustrating way. I would probably use it as a teaching/mentoring moment to prevent you feeling like you need to lie to me in the future. 
But you don't know this person, and you don't know how they'll react. It is exceptionally unlikely this will come up again as anything other than a joke at your dissertation defense.  So just bury it and move on.
 
 

I know the lie was pointless because the school wasn't going to rescind your acceptance if they'd learned you hadn't been accepted anywhere else, and it wouldn't result in you being treated worse than your colleagues.  As has been said here many times, there are people that get accepted to a school in the top 10 or top 5 who were rejected by schools in the 20s and 30s. This is common knowledge.  The professor was probably just curious, programs like to have that data so that they can know a bit more about their applicant pools.
My admittedly armchair psychoanalysis is that when you were asked, you had a moment of impostor syndrome panic (which happens to the best of us), and wanted to seem more impressive to your future advisor.  It is perfectly understandable, but, like so many other behaviors associated with impostor syndrome, is unnecessary and leads to unnecessary anxiety!  Going forward, just remember that they wouldn't have admitted you if they didn't think you were a smart person with a whole lot of potential who will fit nicely into their department culture.
He isn't going to find out. I can't think of a conversation in which it could possibly come up without really wracking my brain to concoct a series of coincidences. If he did find out, it's possible that he wouldn't want to be your advisor anymore, but I think that would speak to a lack of professional maturity and empathy that would not be becoming of an advisor anyway.  If it were me, I would probably chalk it up as one of many incidences I've experienced of an anxious graduate student having a gaffe and saying the wrong thing or behaving in a baffling or frustrating way. I would probably use it as a teaching/mentoring moment to prevent you feeling like you need to lie to me in the future. 
But you don't know this person, and you don't know how they'll react. It is exceptionally unlikely this will come up again as anything other than a joke at your dissertation defense.  So just bury it and move on.
 
 

With regard to imposter syndrome, there is a relevant proverb from the Analects of Confucius (3.15):
"When [Confucius] went inside the Grand Temple, he asked questions about everything. [Later] Someone remarked, 'Who said that the son of the man from Tsou understood the rites? When he went inside the Grand Temple, he asked questions about everything!'
[Confucius], on hearing of this, said, 'The asking of questions is in itself the correct rite.'"
The whole Analects is actually really great reading for meditations on grad school, and on teaching when you come around to it.

I deal with some of the same issues you do (including attention deficit, anxiety, depression) but over the last few years of grad school I've managed to refine my methods, maybe some of this will help.
First.  I find that a solid work schedule begins and ends with a solid sleep pattern, because this helps you establish a routine which I think is so important to dealing with some of these mental health issues.  If I go to bed on time, and wake up on time, the day goes well.  If I stay up too late and oversleep, surprise surprise, I have a hard time even getting grounded and it can be very hard to recover.  Have a routine, and have set work hours.  It doesn't matter if you work from 11am-7pm, 9am-5pm, or 9pm-5am, routine is important.  If you're struggling with getting to classes and meetings, pick a set of working hours amenable to that.  Keep that time sacred for work (though remember to take a break here and there - though don't get too far afield).  If you're like me, and struggle with focus, there are apps for that!  Don't rapidly snap into this new routine overnight, work your way up to it.  I find that even on the weekend I only deviate slightly from this sleep schedule, I shoot for 7 hours of sleep each night, your body may have different needs.
Second.  Protect some time for non-work stuff and keep that sacred as well.  Don't buy into the myth that you should be putting in 70 hours of solid work each week.  Nobody is really doing that, and even if they are, there is plenty evidence to suggest that working in small, intense bursts actually produces better output than dragging out your workday for the sake of being able to comfortably say you logged a lot of hours.  If you have nothing to look forward to then it will be very hard to stay committed to your work.
Third.  Never go into anything as important as a day in your life without a plan.  Even if you wake up and finish your breakfast and walk your dog and you're just itching to sit down and write until your fingers bleed, take some time to plan out your day.  I have used checklists, but I've found that I've had more success after I bought a small lined notepad.  Each day, I mark out the clock hours I'm going to work, each line represents a 30 minute increment, and I visualize how my time will be spent, accounting for time spent on the bus or walking from place to place, as well as any breaks.  Each day starts with a 30 minute block I label "planning/prep", in which I check my e-mail, check and update my planner, get any old coffee cups off my desk, and get whatever books or materials I'm going to need for the day.  After that, I turn on my website blocking app for the next 6-7 hours and I work.
Fourth.  Try doing creative/intense intellectual work in short, highly focused bursts.  There are studies that show that even highly trained and experienced experts in various skills have a very very finite amount of mental energy/willpower that they can expend on their practice before they start to see diminishing returns.  Since I've started actually producing my dissertation, I limit my actual writing time to two very intense 90-120 minute chunks of writing each day.  I've found that I'm having quite a bit of success this way.  In a typical day, I begin at 9:30 a.m., I take care of prep stuff and everyday tasks until 10, I then write until about noon, at which time I take a 30-60 minute break to eat, walk the dog, etc.  I then write for another 90-120 minutes.  These minutes of writing, of course, are focused and intense (I don't check e-mail, don't use my phone, etc., just write).  I then leave the rest of the day for reading and research, or other less intellectually demanding stuff.  I always take the last 15 minutes of the day to close everything down, make some notes on what I need to do tomorrow, and then I take like five minutes or so to just close my eyes, breathe, and disengage from the work.  The strategy of short, intense, flurries of output takes some practice, but I think is ultimately far more rewarding than the drawn out days I used to spend at my desk distracted and despondent.  If you're still in coursework, you may have to alter this formula slightly in order to keep up on reading and seminar prep, which is demanding in a somewhat different way, but I think the principle still holds true.
It goes without saying that this is a very fragile system, it takes some discipline to adhere to.  I have really excellent productive weeks using it.  There are also some weeks that nothing seems to go right with it, and I can't get a groove.  Consistency is key, good days beget good days, good weeks beget good weeks.  If there is something disruptive coming up like a holiday, or a conference, or research travel prepare yourself for it and figure out how you'll get your groove back when you return. I can't stress enough that the strongest indicator I can find as to whether a week is good or bad is a consistent sleep pattern that helps lock the routine in place.  Also, finding a workspace conducive to highly focused work is essential as well.
There is a book I've found very helpful called Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World by Dr. Cal Newport.  Some of the strategies I talk about in this post come from that, though most are modifications of things I was already working about.  What Newport provides is a solid well researched basis for these strategies and ways of refining them.  It's not geared toward academics, but the author is a professor at Georgetown so the strategies are actually rooted in his academic life.  It's not without its problematic aspects, but overall very helpful.