December 6, 2019

Exhausting AGMC rehearsal last night. Everyone came or was soon in a bad mood. My voice was gone at the end.

Gave perhaps my last Enlightenment to Modern exam this AM. Graded it already, and there were grades of 40 out of 100, with only a few doing really well. If you mistake Tennyson for Frost, Yeats for Hopkins, how can you make your way in this subtle world?

The prize check from Red Hen that I’ve been awaiting for two years still had not, after an apparent flurry of activity, arrived. Sent a bitter email. The accountant’s explanation that it had been sent on November 20 to the correct address was unconvincing, but the only explanation I have. For that, of all things, to be lost in the mail is exquisite. I don’t remember anything being lost in the mail before.  Whatever the truth of it, it sounds like an excuse. I wait still.