Slip-ups and Tenterhooks

That. Was royally. Embarrassing.

I was supposed to arrive at 10 am at UP for a consultation with Ma'am ami regarding my decision for my thesis and what I ought to do with my thesis proposal. I was supposed to arrive at 10am, but by some confounded mess, I scrambled up the FC building into the Department by 10:45 am. Ma'am Ami had already warned me on text she had a lecture to give at that time. Not good, not good for someone who requested for the appointment in the first place. I had to catch Ma'am Ami, or at least listen to what advice she could give me before her audience started filling in.

Hurry, hurry, hurry, run, run.

I eventually did find her in PH 132, testing a DVD player for her lecture. She was very kind to accomodate me and my troubles, even for just five minutes. she listened, thought things over calmly. Her calm soothed me, and for that I am most grateful.

Then in came Sir Tony Mabesa, the downy tufts of his hair dyed chocolate, his huge chestnut-colored Chow Chow melting into the floor on a leash. Oh dear.

"Aba, how can you write a paper on me without interviewing me? Naku..." The ful, baritone voice and raised eyebrows mad eme want to crawl inside somewhere safe. Indeed, he had seen the posters for the colloqium, and that had been enough to raise his eyebrows. Ma'am Ami rose to greet him and assured him in a sweet, soft voice that "oh, it just a proposal." They chatted for a while, the she turned to greet Chiene, the Chow Chow. Sir Tony went back to reminding me of what ought to have done first, before "coming to me cold". Oh Lord. My fault. All I could do was smile and take everything, and keep paddling like crazy underneath.

I tried to assure him, "don't worry, sir, I'm working on it."
He replied, "No, I'm not worried; I'm appaled."

Again, smile, keep paddling.

Ma'am ami finally gave me her last words of advice for my thesis, and I had given my thank you's. I stood up and enede dropping my cellphone. Yes, the casing came apart, and yes, half the people in the room squealed. I picked it up and quipped "ah, it's survived worse", at the same time wishing it didn't end up another casualty for today's seeming streak of bad luck.

I turned to Sir Tony to pay my respects and say my goodbyes, I told him, "thank you Sir; I'm working on it." And he replied, "No, I don't believe you." All the same, I thanked him, and turned to leave. So did he.

The last thing I remember was hearing him ask where his chaffeur had gone to. Off I went, trying to quickly clear the area under the semblance of helloing to the other Theater Majors. I so wished for a snail shell to crawl into then and there.

Yes, your researcher has yellow streaks too.

And James had to cancel lunch today.

For now, the Science Building serves as a big-enough carapace for me, and I feel some level of safety here. It's scary to bump into Sir Tony again for today, really, but I hope it's not going to be like that forever.

Get a grip of yourself, girl. you already have enough real-time problems with your STS and your play and your thesis. Deep breath. Pick yourself up; walk it off.