Tuesday means it will take eternity...

I remember reading in "Under the Tuscan Sun" (the original story which has nothing to do with Diane Lane or being divorced or trying to get a younger Italian boyfriend) that one should not begin big jobs on a Tuesday. It is an omen for uncompleted work.

Today I looked at my very long list of To Dos, and felt that the Tuscan superstition may have a truth that applied to me in Manhattan.

***

Regarding the incident of a few posts down, in the homeschooling realm, we -- the members of the homeschooling group to which I loosely belong -- are debating how to approach the NYPD and our Homeschooling Coordinator so that everyone is, ahem, educated, and understands that the BoE issues homeschooling kids use Metrocards but not IDs. The NYPD is free to arrest anyone unlawfully using a student Metrocard. If a student does not have ID proving that he or she is a student, as was the case for our Shakespeare-loving homeschooler who was arrested on his way to A Midsummer's Night Dream rehearsal last week, you land in the slammer.

It's a touchy subject. Homeschoolers -- I will elaborate and qualify that -- unschoolers -- do not want to be investigated too much. It is bad enough that unschoolers have to turn in IHIPs to anyone to "prove" that their kids are meeting "standards." To get Metrocards, you must submit IHIPs. Now we -- as homeschoolers in general (if you are late coming into this show, A and I are not unschoolers)-- are worried that our kids will get arrested because the NYPD only seem to believe that students are students if they carry BoE-issued IDs. So we will allow the BoE to issue our homeschooling kids IDs.

Wrap your heads around this. The irony of this should not get lost. We are allowing policing of our kids so that our kids don't get roughed up by the police.

***

Today, A worked for four hours at his Tuesday day job, then went to Playwriting class. It was a nervewracking day for A, because a group of professional Broadway actors were supposed to read A's 20-page play this evening in front of his class. I would have been nervous, too. But I liked his play when he allowed me to read it. I told him it would be fine, and to enjoy the adrenaline rush while it happened.

Tonight, when I arrived at the playwriting class, the students were on break, and A was surrounded by other students, chatting away. I suspect he did well.