Expect the Worst

And you will never be disappointed...

I was presented with two conflicting possible interpretations of my thesis supervisor's intentions when she asked to see me in person.

One: Jean said, "Oh that can't be good. She's going to kill you!" I was inclined to agree. I figured she was going to have a fit because I subjected her to that paper. I pictured her with a knife saying, "You spent ten pages on plot! Contextualize this!" And killing me.

Two: Dennis said, "I bet she just wants you to go see her so that she can give you a medal made of rum and ice cream." Wouldn't that be something?

Well, she didn't kill me, but I was majorly disappointed about the lack of a rum and ice cream medal. Maybe someone will give me one of those to make me feel better. A girl can dream...Jean owes me a party for doing my thesis on Rushdie (she said that she would take me to Red Lobster for lobsterfest instead but I think she is a liar). She is also quickly approaching the deadline to get me my fourth year graduating present. (No, I haven't forgotten.)

The moral of the story? Expect the worst--you'll never be disappointed.