“Fantastic” emanated from my adviser’s lips this morning — at the end of a meeting I much anticipated/dreaded.
Probably mistakenly.
Recent months of anxiety I had all but forgotten for that brief instant. Validation I felt… as if he were capable of granting it.
Being the lofty idealist I am, my creed has always been: “Truth is your only validation”.
The problem is, the older I get, the more elusive “Truth” becomes. Perhaps my adviser’s appraisal of It is the only criterion I have left.
Pathetic.
