Well, this morning at around 7:30 AM, I received a text message from Sir Tony Mabesa.
"Good job. U may . Get Draft 2day. Have some corrections n suggestions."
Sender:
Sir Tony Mabesa
Sent:
7:29:19 Am
Nov-23-2005
Oh. wow.
So, by 11:30am, I arrived at Sir Tony's place. Chien the Super Chow Chow trotted up to me at the gate, ruff-ruffed, and trotted away as the director's Butler waved him back into the sala and let me in.
Chien had by then settled and snuggled beside one of the sala seats nearest the door. Sir Tony was reading the day's newspaper. His baritone "good morning" had a brighter, lighter tone to it. A good omen.
The hefty draft, thesis, appendices and all, lay on the coffee table, a couple of yellow pad leaves pressed between the volumes. The yellow pad paper contained the suggestions and comments.
Sir Tony read them aloud. Yep, he basically hit me in all the right tingly places. Yes, it's a formal paper; not a feature article. Yes, I ought to be a bit "more dispassionate on the bit about the critics." Yes, i shouldn't be constantly prepending Sirs and Dr.s to each an every name in the study. and basically other technicalities that it would be wiser for me to pay attention to.
To Sir Tony, I am most grateful.
So basically, here I am, revising, re-encoding, will soon be printing in a few minutes time, and hieing off the thesis volume back to Blessings to re-ringbind. Tomorrow, I'm to come back here in the morning to deliver the whole rigmarole to the Department for Ma'am Edna May's perusal.
Wow.
here we go then.
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