I hardly did anything today – except going to my first writing class. Besides having lunch in Rosita’s Fish Shack in Williamsburg, shopping fruit and getting sandals repaired.
I was quite excited about the beginning of my class. To make sure I would not be late for check-in at 6:30 pm I left home at 5 pm. So of course I was much too early. Subway connections between Greenpoint and the West Village are not that bad. Check-in was very unspectacular then. I just had to say my name. No paperwork. I was told the number of my classroom and could just go there. The classroom was empty, I was the first one. Bit by bit more students came. Some saying hello, some just taking a seat. The class was fully booked. Twelve women and two men.
I don’t want to go into class details here, but I was quite frustrated when I walked to the subway three hours later. Not because I realized it will be really hard work – I am willing to work hard to become a better writer or a writer at all – but because I had serious problems to understand most of the others when they read their texts. I wasn’t aware that my understanding was SO poor and I have no idea what else to do about it.
What I learned today:
I don’t understand spoken American English.
And I discovered a fruit unknown to me: Pluot – a hybrid of plum and apricot.