Tuesday, January 28, 2014

One of those giorni
I woke up an hour earlier than the early time I usually wake up these days because I thought I was being attacked by a swarm of killer mosquitoes. It turned out it was just my ears buzzing. At least you can kill off the mosquitoes. This virus never goes away. When I get up in the morning and look in the mirror, I see this:

Then I tried to go back to sleep numerous times. When the buzzing didn't get me, the smacking did. F has developed a charming habit of smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth while he is sleeping. He only does it when he is congested, which accounts for one third of the winter months. It is worse than snoring. If your partner snores, consider yourself lucky. It could always be worse. He sounds like an irregularly dripping faucet with a microphone next to it.

Despite my exhaustion, I scrambled to get ready for my morning exercise walk around the walls. I didn't want to keep Francesca, my walking buddy, waiting. I gulped down my orzo/decaf and some round energy snacks that F made us from peanut butter, flax seed, coconut, rolled oats, and chocolate chips. I smeared my feet with vaseline and took my saw palmetto pills and put some sunlotion and concealer on my face and started for my jacket when my cell phone buzzed. It was Francesca saying that she couldn't make it. I would have happily gone back to bed, if she had called 20 minutes earlier. Now it was too late to turn back. I would feel more like the above photo than ever if I had slunk back under the covers.

 It was extremely chilly and humid today and the mist was so thick that the view from the walls looked more like Scottish moors than Tuscan fortresses. The explicit rap music booming through my ipod headphones made me feel better. That is I felt better until I felt  a new blister forming in the heel of my new gortex shoes. The reviews on Amazon said to buy a half size too big. I thought I would be smart to follow their advice, but no. The shoes are just about exactly a half size too big. We don't really return things in Italy. The stores will only give you credit. No refunds. And on-line purchases may never get delivered to your house in the best of times.

Then I gave my English lesson. It was a really uninspired lesson on prepositional phrases and I didn't blame my student for looking sceptical when I gave my -now that you know your prepositional phrases, next week will be a blast- speech.
Here's T. I call this photo: hipster on the move.
Then I greeted T on her way home from school, and ran to the hair salon. I have two friends who work there, but the owner is a really weird guy. He never lets them progress in their professional development and hogs all the haircutting himself. They are allowed to apply color and wash and style, but that's it. He decides on the color and does a lot of the finishing touches. He arbitrarily decided that the black stripe in the front of my head that was left after they lightened my hair was too risky to correct. I offered to take responsibility for it, but he wouldn't even try, so my friends wrote me on facebook that I could come in while he went home for lunch. I came running in after he left and said okay "Thelma & Lousie," let's do this! And sure enough there was no damage to my hair and they did a perfect job. He came in before they were completely finished and we all got a bit nervous, but he didn't notice anything different.

F's fabulous sauteed mushrooms.
F's homemade sour dough english muffins. They came out really well.

1 comment:

Laurence said...

The English muffins look great, anyway....