Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Face Down/ Bocconi
Yesterday I ended up not napping in the morning. I got progressively more loopy with tiredness as the day went on. F brought me a second cup of coffee when my forehead accidentally got glued to the table at lunch. I could not imagine going out in what, all of the sudden, has become the freezing cold. I knew I was supposed to go to the gym for my private client Alessia. I brought an extra large and heavy bag because it was the night that some of my students and I decided to go out to dinner after class. I had to walk the whole way in my high heeled boots because it had started raining. When I finally got to the gym I asked about the weird request I had from the gym owner to work on the holiday teaching some friends of his at a tennis circle. Even though no one had any more information for me,  it became clear that it is not a indeed a practical joke. Except people did chuckle when I told them I thought it might have been a practical joke. I have now become serious joke bait for the 1st of April.

I was so tired that I got on the treadmill and just stood there. Then I got a call from Alessia canceling her appointment. Thanks for the huge 60 minute heads up, Alessia.  I explained to my other boss Dino about the high school show for Thursday and the tennis circle. He thought it was hilarious that I had to do that show with Happy gym since he refused the offer for LIFE gym. Who would go to that much trouble for a fifteen minute show, he chuckled. Taking pity on me, he said that I could go have a rest in his wife and business partner Gemma's office. She has a massage table in there, but even with my shoes off I thought I would probably wrinkle and dirty the snow white table. It was covered in that kind of crinkly doctor's office paper.  When I see this kind of paper, I think of how in the past I have discovered that this stuff can be sticky as fly paper and rips with cinematic surround sound flair and efficiency. Being super scrappy and inventive in moments of necessity, I decided to untie the seat cushion off one of the chairs and lie down on the floor. Just for a minute. Once I got down there, I was delighted to find that there was a heat lamp. I put my towel that I had brought to use in the sauna down under me and tried to imagine that the hard wooden floor was really the beach. My nose was kind of smooshed against the floor planks, but the nice little heat lamp, which rotated like a rotisserie grill, kept swooping around and warming my face. After about 20 minutes I got drunk with sleepiness. I didn't want to fall asleep and have anyone find me there, lying on the floor with drool coming out of my mouth.

Just my imagination . . .

While time stopped entirely, I had these thoughts:
1. Wow, this is a new low -- literally.
2. And also, This may be a low point.
3. Jokes involving the word low while your nose is smooshed against the floor and you are drunk with tiredness are hilarious.
4. I hope this is not a UV lamp.
5. I hope that months of using sun protection were not in vain.
6. I can't imagine getting up. Ever.

and then number 7 . . . Oh s**t my face hurts. Yup, I burned my whole face and was bright red for like forty minutes. Then I proceeded to go into the sala and teach class for a whopping four whole people. Somewhere towards the end of the class, inexplicably my second cup of coffee kicked in.  Five minutes into the class, in walked dear Catherine, my new friend from Australia who came on foot from the city, in the freezing drizzle, and about whom I had forgotten to leave word at the front desk. After class, my whole Sex in the Unsexy City bagno turko experience was nixed because it was freezing out and my face was still burnt. Federica messaged me that she was sick, and not coming and so it ended up being just Giusy, Catherine, Laura and myself. Perfect because we fit in Laura's car. We went to a cute pizza restaurant outside of Porta Elisa. At one point during the meal, I got excited and tossed my wine glass up in the air for no good reason and splashed mostly the floor, but also the delicate sleeve of Giusy's blouse. Laura, who has a delightfully wry sense of humor looked me in the eyes and said, "Oh K, that was biblical." If she only knew . . .

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