I heart my supervisor

She walks into my office and I don't have time to hide under the desk.

She says, "So..."
I say, "So..."
"I haven't see you for a while..."
I give her my special patented Guilty Look. "Um, no."
"No?"
"No."
"No."

We both burst out laughing.

"You're avoiding me, aren't you?"
"Maybe."
"But you were going to come and make an appointment to talk about it real soon, right?"
"Yes. I really was. I've been trying to get something new written first so I would have something to show you. But I'm a bit at sea, to tell the truth."
"With the chapter we talked about last time?"
"Yes. I've been reading a lot about [phenomenon X] that you suggested I needed to define more clearly, and it seems like everyone treats it totally differently. Oh, and this article here? It's the most recent one on [X,] and it seems to me to be totally bizarre and full of shit."
"Who's it by?"
I tell her.
"Then it probably is totally bizarre and full of shit." She picks it up, turns to the back page, and skims the bibliography. "She didn't cite me. It's definitely totally bizarre and full of shit."

She tucks the article in her purse. "I'll have a read of it, and then we can get together and talk about X some more. Or not. Whatever is most helpful to you. I've got a lot of exams to mark right now, so I'm not fussed if we don't meet this week, but since you were just about to call me to arrange an appointment..."
"Yeah, that's what I was about to do. I think we should probably meet."
"I think that you're probably right." Like it was my idea all along.

She does that.