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It's 12:51...
Nov. 29th, 2001 12:51 pmMeaning my advisor is now considerably late for our lunch meeting. Has he forgotten?
Why, yes, I suspect he has.
I'm not particularly eager to go over my lack of progress with him over a dining hall meal, but this makes three blow-offs in a row (especially irritating when I see him most days of the week anyway) and I rather need his input before I can make much more progress.
Blah.
I could call him and remind him, but he has a class to teach in an hour, would probably not get here for another 20 minutes or so, and so on. And this way I have something of a moral high-ground. We'll probably just reschedule for tomorrow whether I call him now or wait until he comes in five minutes before his class. So that gives me time tonight to do a little more work, maybe.
Except that we're having our kindly landlady over for grub tonight, so maybe not.
The Kindly Land-nobility live out of state and show up now and then to work on making their part of the house humanly habitable with an eye to their eventual retirement. Mrs. Landlady is in town this week by herself, has limited kitchen facilities, and not much human company. So we're having her over to share in a French chicken-and-shallot recipe.
I felt silly when I invited her last night. Not knowing particularly what outside door to knock on, and with inside doors (locked from both sides) somehow odd to use, I called her from the phone in our living room. We could hear it ringing on the other side of the first-floor door (locked) to their dining room. Then we heard the stomp-stomp-stomp as she made her way from upstairs to that phone. Apparently it's the only one they have hooked up. We had our brief phone conversation standing close enough to hear each other without the phones...
As a bonus, she had been sleeping.
Oh well. She was happy to accept the dinner invitation, anyway.
Why, yes, I suspect he has.
I'm not particularly eager to go over my lack of progress with him over a dining hall meal, but this makes three blow-offs in a row (especially irritating when I see him most days of the week anyway) and I rather need his input before I can make much more progress.
Blah.
I could call him and remind him, but he has a class to teach in an hour, would probably not get here for another 20 minutes or so, and so on. And this way I have something of a moral high-ground. We'll probably just reschedule for tomorrow whether I call him now or wait until he comes in five minutes before his class. So that gives me time tonight to do a little more work, maybe.
Except that we're having our kindly landlady over for grub tonight, so maybe not.
The Kindly Land-nobility live out of state and show up now and then to work on making their part of the house humanly habitable with an eye to their eventual retirement. Mrs. Landlady is in town this week by herself, has limited kitchen facilities, and not much human company. So we're having her over to share in a French chicken-and-shallot recipe.
I felt silly when I invited her last night. Not knowing particularly what outside door to knock on, and with inside doors (locked from both sides) somehow odd to use, I called her from the phone in our living room. We could hear it ringing on the other side of the first-floor door (locked) to their dining room. Then we heard the stomp-stomp-stomp as she made her way from upstairs to that phone. Apparently it's the only one they have hooked up. We had our brief phone conversation standing close enough to hear each other without the phones...
As a bonus, she had been sleeping.
Oh well. She was happy to accept the dinner invitation, anyway.
