Driving at stupid times

It’s nearly midnight and I start the drive back to the Lakes. I had offered to go back just as we arrived in Milan and would have been back before 10, I reckoned, but was informed that although it would be difficult, it would be alright and that ‘one’ would manage.

Then, as I was finishing up my drink and closing my computer I hear an ‘Oh, no!’ wail from across the hallway. It seems that the tickets for the flight to Rome and to that very important meeting, the next day (but only just) were in the bag left behind. So, instead of going to bed to sleep for 6 hours (which is the very minimum I need to function like a human being of any sort), I get my shoes and coat on and head out the door. To return a few minutes later to collect the bag with the car documents which are essential here as it’s illegal to drive without all the documents, both for the car and for yourself.

In the car, I forget to take off my jacket first so I know it will get too hot, but I cannot be bothered to stop.

I start to drive and it’s foggy. In fact, it’s very foggy. I’m driving out of Milan, on the motorway, and I’m thinking that, at this speed, it will take me all night. Luckily, the fog stops not too far from Milan and the roads are clear so it makes for an easy journey. Me, of course, grumbling about the fact that I could have done this several hours earlier and be in bed by now.

Then, just off the motorway, I get flagged down by the police. Thank God that I went back for the bag containing the documents. After about 10 minutes they hand everything back to me and I continue.

I arrive back at the house to find the door bolted from inside. This means I have a choice. I can go sleep in the car until about 6 a.m. or I can raise them now. ‘Them’ being the relations that live in the same building (it’s owned by one family).

It’s about 1.20 a.m. I’m thinking of a warm bed against the (very soon to be) cold car. And, of course of the fact that it’s getting colder and that there may be more fog by morning.

So, I rang the bell. They were very understanding but I just wish, so much, that I had gone when I first thought of it and then I would not have had to wake them up at all. V owes them (and me) a present for this!

The drive back was uneventful. The fog stretched further from Milan but did not seem quite so thick. I made it home just before 3. That meant 3 hours sleep. However, so far, today, I haven’t felt so bad. I know that I only have to hang on for a couple more hours (well 4 to be precise) and then I can be in bed.

And the special prize this morning – the flight was cancelled. I presume they caught another as I have had no word from V, so I guess the meeting with all the important people, went ahead.

Christmas Cards; White Lights; St Ambrose

We have started to receive Christmas cards, which is really nice. First, as always, we had one from R who is now living in New Zealand. But also from M & B who are on their way to Vancouver for Christmas and New Year and also one from B and L and about whom I feel very guilty since they don’t have computers and I should really write to them more often.

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A body without a mind; Mexico’s National Dish is not Chilli Con Carne

Last night, for some strange reason, I did not sleep well. It seemed (although it is probably not true) that I woke up every half an hour or so and so, this morning, feel like …. well ….crap!

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A weekend away – 2; What do they want with Vanda?; The season of the wardrobe change

And the weather was truly fantastic. On Sunday from about 11.30 a.m. for about 3 hours or so, we sat outside a café, in the sun, without coats, watching the lake and the people, Rufus lying at our feet (having had several long walks already that day).

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What’s your job? Italian job status v English job titles

When I was teaching English I had some problems with work and jobs in particular. And, by that, I mean the translation of the meaning. As with other things the exact translation doesn’t always work. But, when I asked people ‘What’s your job?’ (a standard question with beginners), the reply, in Italian, was, invariably, Impiegato or Impiegata (depending on whether the reply was from a man or a woman) and this means employee or clerk.

Now, I couldn’t (and still can’t to some extent) quite get my head round this. Most people, when you ask what they do, reply with one of those answers. This is generally so, even when I’m listing to the radio and someone phones in. Well, I think, finally, I’ve got it! Whereas in the UK and the USA, job titles are really important (and change often), here, the status of your employment is the key.

So, if you have full-time employment, with a contract, you are, of course an Employee (Impiegato/a). And this is the most important thing. What you actually do is less important. And, when people ask me what I do and I reply that I am a Project Manager, this causes some consternation because a) it is in English and b) it doesn’t tell you my employment status. It doesn’t say whether I am a consultant, temporary or full-time, with contract.

And I have learnt, recently that there are two other stages to go to reach the ‘top’. First there is Quadro (Manager). This gives one all the rights of the Impiegato plus a little extra. One example, here, is the right not to clock in (see this post and this one).

There must be others, apart from the salary, but I am learning, slowly. The next level is Dirigente (Executive). Again, this gives more benefits (someone mentioned health cover for the whole family but I’m not sure that would apply where I work) but also you lose the rights (not to be sacked easily) that the Impiegato and Quadro have.

I guess it’s much like the UK – except for this fact that the job title is not so important.

I really could do much better English lessons now that I’ve been living and working here for longer!

Meetings, Bloody Italian Meetings (or at least, meetings which involve more than one Italian)

Many things here are the same, well, almost the same, as in the UK. We are, generally, not so different at all. But it’s the little differences that count. Some of those things are really nice and some are more than a little frustrating.

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