An interrogation, almost, on September 1; he said he’d read fifty papers, but I took the paper home with me to improve some passages and write the last pages. And days and days passed. Eventually handed this on Friday after a night shift – and it took him only until Monday to read this. I’ll go to see him and “talk about the paper” (oh, what fun) this Monday. Scary stuff, again.
I hope he doesn’t offer so much criticism as to crush me; I hope I don’t have to rewrite the thing.