December 13, 2019

Pre-dress rehearsal better than I expected from myself. Wonders may be achieved by listening madly.

Foot still tender and inexplicable.

Student phones me at 10 PM (while I was watching “Project Runway”) begging me to rescind the “F” I’d given him for disappearing before midterms and taking exactly one of six exams and not doing the big final project. “You said I could turn things in late,” say he. “Not after the semester is over, not THAT late,” I respond with wonder in my voice. He goes on about what a terrible year he’s been having. This is his last semester and his girlfriend miscarried a baby, and then she left him, and I inquire why none of this could have come out in the last four months, but only just before midnight on the last day the college is open. “I know” he says, accepting all blame, throwing himself on my mercy, but adding, “all my other professors said it was OK,” which I doubt. ANYWAY. . . this morning I petition to change the assigned grade, agreeing with him, finally, that a failure in Arts 310 should not prevent you from going on with your life. I realize “no” was the just answer, but that mercy operates outside of justice. He was always surly. Maybe his surliness arose from having a hard time. Who, finally, knows the truth of anything?

Actual dress rehearsal in two hours. I am not yet having fun.