Progress report
Ciao amici
I hope and trust you're all well, and missing me a great deal. But turn that frown upside down, as I'll soon be back amongst your midsts.
This week I've worked a mammoth 6.5 hours. Read it and weep you 9 to 5-ers. I generally have an ambivalent attidtude towards work, so this would normally make me happier than a pig rolling in its own filth* but as mentioned in my previous post, I've been a bit down. Since the weekend I've felt lower than a bow-legged centipede (loving the animal analogies). However, I know why this is, and so to counter this, I've been out a couple of times. I only have next week left, so hopefully I get some more hours, although I'm not going to hold my breath.
*Co-incidentally, did you know pigs don't have sweat glands? That's why they wallow in mud. But it does cast doubt as to the origins of the phrase "sweating like a pig". That factoid is free, because I like you.
Tonight is a staff night out, which presumably will end with the terrific trio of Stevie, Simone (honourary, if not actually staff) and I trying to drink our way through the spirits shelf at La Lepre. I'm really going to miss that place. I've been here for 7 weeks, and now when we walk in the staff look at us and start pouring our drinks. Minimum speaking, maximum drinking. It's like Cheers, except they don't know my name and there's less capering. So.... not like Cheers.
During my wanderings, I've noticed loads of signs up for a missing old man. It's like the signs people put up at home when their cat/dog disappears. It's a shame, as he's obviously missed, but it's strange, because I've seen signs in Aranzano (30 mins away on the train) and at Forte Speroni (castle at top of a hill quite far away from where he was seen last). Fair enough, they're leaving no stone unturned, but they put their posters up in the strangest of places. Forte Speroni is at the top of a ridiculously steep hill, so I don't see him getting all the way up there.
An interesting fact. (Yes! Another one!) When you turn 80 here, you legally can't go to jail. I've not seen a rash of crime committed by octogenarians, but it'd be quite fun to see a gang of oldies robbing a bank before making their veeeeeeery slow getaway on their mobility scooters. Kind of like that Irn-Bru advert. If I'm still around in 55 years I might come here just to make use of that loop-hole. However, as previously noted, all the police (and even the security guard at my local Co-Op) 'pack heat', so it might be a bit risky. Even the bang of the gun would probably be too much for some of their dicky-hearts, never mind if the policeman was actually competent enough to hit them.
That's enough of me I think, so speak to y'all sometime.
Stay safe.
I hope and trust you're all well, and missing me a great deal. But turn that frown upside down, as I'll soon be back amongst your midsts.
This week I've worked a mammoth 6.5 hours. Read it and weep you 9 to 5-ers. I generally have an ambivalent attidtude towards work, so this would normally make me happier than a pig rolling in its own filth* but as mentioned in my previous post, I've been a bit down. Since the weekend I've felt lower than a bow-legged centipede (loving the animal analogies). However, I know why this is, and so to counter this, I've been out a couple of times. I only have next week left, so hopefully I get some more hours, although I'm not going to hold my breath.
*Co-incidentally, did you know pigs don't have sweat glands? That's why they wallow in mud. But it does cast doubt as to the origins of the phrase "sweating like a pig". That factoid is free, because I like you.
Tonight is a staff night out, which presumably will end with the terrific trio of Stevie, Simone (honourary, if not actually staff) and I trying to drink our way through the spirits shelf at La Lepre. I'm really going to miss that place. I've been here for 7 weeks, and now when we walk in the staff look at us and start pouring our drinks. Minimum speaking, maximum drinking. It's like Cheers, except they don't know my name and there's less capering. So.... not like Cheers.
During my wanderings, I've noticed loads of signs up for a missing old man. It's like the signs people put up at home when their cat/dog disappears. It's a shame, as he's obviously missed, but it's strange, because I've seen signs in Aranzano (30 mins away on the train) and at Forte Speroni (castle at top of a hill quite far away from where he was seen last). Fair enough, they're leaving no stone unturned, but they put their posters up in the strangest of places. Forte Speroni is at the top of a ridiculously steep hill, so I don't see him getting all the way up there.
An interesting fact. (Yes! Another one!) When you turn 80 here, you legally can't go to jail. I've not seen a rash of crime committed by octogenarians, but it'd be quite fun to see a gang of oldies robbing a bank before making their veeeeeeery slow getaway on their mobility scooters. Kind of like that Irn-Bru advert. If I'm still around in 55 years I might come here just to make use of that loop-hole. However, as previously noted, all the police (and even the security guard at my local Co-Op) 'pack heat', so it might be a bit risky. Even the bang of the gun would probably be too much for some of their dicky-hearts, never mind if the policeman was actually competent enough to hit them.
That's enough of me I think, so speak to y'all sometime.
Stay safe.
posted by michael | 09:37
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