So, why the hell ain’t I HAPPY?

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Well, I know why. But isn’t it just bloody annoying? In theory, I should be, more or less, on Cloud 9. Bugger!

I have signed for the flat. It was all a little strange in the usual Italian way in that things said did not quite tie up with actual fact and vice versa. But, hey, siamo in Italia and that is life here.

She gave me back the money, in an envelope. I didn’t open the envelope. After one minute I returned the envelope to her. She didn’t open it either. It could have been stuffed with worthless bits of paper, who knows? Sometimes, I think, this is a seriously screwed-up country! Definitely, in the UK, that (the game of passing the envelope) would not have happened. But, then, it’s less likely we would have been passing an envelope around with cash in it (unless you lived in the underworld of crime, drugs, etc.).

Now, there are a million and one things to do, for which I still need help. I wish I could do it on my own! It’s the problem of being in a foreign country and not knowing enough of the language. Damn!

p.s. One of my very favourite songs was in the video originally posted on this page but, unfortunately, it no longer works and, as I didn’t write here what it was, I don’t remember!

Irrational Feelings?

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I have a fear of certain places, as I have mentioned before. Hospitals are one, where, I just can’t get it out of my head that, if I enter, someone will spot I have some dread disease and I will never leave.

Another, probably worse, is prison. I have never visited a prison and, I truly hope, never will – either as an inmate or a visitor.

So, when I heard that a colleague is in prison, in a foreign country, there is a sick feeling in my stomach. I feel for him and I am frightened for him. It was the first day of his holiday there. From what I can tell, he has been in prison for two days now. He must feel very lonely being thousands of miles from home and, although he can speak English well, it must be difficult for him (typical British understatement).

If it were me I would be so scared. And then I think what if it were V or someone who is really close? How would I cope with it all? I cannot even imagine the horror of it if it were me. His family are struggling at the moment and I feel for them too but for him, he must feel in the middle of some nightmare and wishing he would wake up. I really hope, with all my heart, that it’s all over very quickly and he is back home soon.

The point of no return and things to be missed

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I am at home today. First I have had one removal firm come round and quote. I really wanted two different quotes. One for all our furniture (just in case) and one for the things I am taking. I ended up with one – for all our furniture. It is quite a lot of money. I can afford it but wish that it were cheaper.

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Be More Cheerful!

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Be_More_Cheerful

Yeah, right.

It bothers me that the blog may have become a little depressing. After all, I’m not sure that it helps and it must make for terrible reading. It’s difficult to make it more cheerful, to be honest. At least right now.

But, let’s look for some cheerful things to say. After all, we are into spring now. The forsythia is blooming, leaves are starting to show, the sun is shining and, for the first time this year, the back door is open as I type. See, already it’s starting to look better, isn’t it?

Back to the flat (the new flat). I had postponed the meeting to sign the flat until next Tuesday for various reasons. However, we have someone visiting the factory on Monday and Tuesday of next week. Originally, I thought that they were coming for 3 days, so sloping off a little early on day two would not be a problem. However, then they said they were only going to be here for two days and I do want to see what they say at the end of the visit – so, I got the MD to phone up.

But here’s where the slightly strange bit came in. When I first went to see her I thought she was the owner. It turns out she was the Administrator and she wanted her commission. I nearly walked out at one point but, in the end we agreed on €500, which I paid in cash and got a receipt. Because the figure was low (for her, anyway), she said that, once the contract was signed, we would tear up the receipt. In other words, it was to be “in nero”. No real surprise – we are in Italy, after all.

So, as I needed to move it to Wednesday and as it was because we had a visitor, I asked my MD to make the call. When she rang, what had originally been agreed was a little changed. Instead of getting some special savings-account passbook, I could bring a cheque. Then later I could get the passbook and the cheque would be ripped up! And, also could I bring €500 cash. When my MD got off the phone, she explained this to me saying that, apparently, I knew about the €500 thing. I thought it was very strange. I said that I certainly didn’t know about it and couldn’t understand what it was for. She kindly phoned back. Apparently the €500 I paid before was not the commission/expenses of the Administrator but rather a ‘deposit’ that would be returned to me at the signing of the contract. I would get this back and then I would pay the commission! What?

The reality is that either the old-lady Administrator forgot that I had already paid the €500 or she was trying to scam me for more dosh or this really was the way it works. But then, why tell my MD to tell me not to forget the €500 in cash if it was the last one? I won’t need the €500 in cash if she’s going to give me back the €500 I gave her! I’m going for one of the first two and I’m so inclined to believe it was the second one. Perhaps, in my old age, I’m just getting far to cynical.

Anyway, hopefully you found this post a little more cheerful. For those of who have it, enjoy the sun in the first few days of spring.

Nuffink Much

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So, there is some movement and I feel much more positive today – in general.

Before the Final Question can be answered, there needs to be some further dialogue – and dialogue without anger. We shall see. The email has been answered, ‘Re: Final Question’ as the title.

And now, due to work commitments, instead of Tuesday, I go to sign my contract for the perfect-flat-on-the-perfect-street next Wednesday. Hurrah!

This weekend, I will start to pack things up – the easier things, like books and things that are, obviously, mine. Maybe clear some crap out at the same time. Other than that, no specific plans although I may be out on Saturday night. Anyway, I must work on the website stuff and start the packing and, this week, take the dogs out a few times. They, too, have been suffering, as dogs do, with the all the things going on and deserve a good weekend. The weather has turned a little chilly anyway, quite suitable for walking the dogs.

Nothing very much, really.

Today

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The only thing to say about today is that it is the day after yesterday.

It has not gone well.

Having resisted, I find that I am now to blame for everything that is wrong. In some ways this has made the thing easier but now we are back to how it was when it all first happened, before Christmas.

I am tired of it. I am tired of the anger being directed toward me. I am sad and it is difficult even to write. In fact, right now I shall stop, post this and then that’s it.

Basta already!

Lying and the “HELP V” button

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I’m sorry, I lied. To you. Yesterday. I mean, the things I wrote were true and they were good things. But it wasn’t how I was really feeling.

One of the things about the blog writing that I like is that I can say what I want. And, I can use it as I want. Yesterday was, in fact, quite a bad day for several reasons. I use things to make me feel different than I really feel and one of those is to bury my head in the sand, a little, by not facing up to my fears (only sometimes and, I hope, under control). Another way is to think of only positive things.

Often these things work. Sometimes they don’t. I never know which way it will go.

As it happens, it got worse during the day.

It got better, though, that evening when, during a conversation with V, I realised that, perhaps, the light was beginning to dawn in his head and that he seemed to be trying to face up to his own responsibilities. Of course, this was mixed with the feeling of SO wanting to help, take him my arms and make everything all right for him again.

It’s a dangerous situation, I know. He has always been my wild, social side and I have always been his serious, logical side. Together, it worked for so long; apart, well……..

I guess that we know each other too well; know how to press the right buttons: know how to get what we want – apart from the things that we can’t control, like me giving in to the things (I mean physical things) he wants to purchase and him, maybe, giving in to a lifestyle that’s a little ‘older’ than he would really prefer.

Of course, as a result of last night we are on the way, possibly, to reconciliation although, given the seriousness of the problem, I really don’t know if it is possible or, even, desired. Is that terrible of me?

In any event, the reconciliation will be a long and, I suspect, painful process. The last time we went through something like this it took 10 months and for most of those months we never saw each other. This time, I suspect, it will be much longer and much more difficult.

Of course, it could be made longer/shorter by his need for help, which immediately presses my “HELP V” button. Bugger.

Yes, I know, Cecilieaux, you are probably screaming at the computer right now, as you read this ‘DON’T DO IT’. And, of course, you would be right. I know I should reject the calls for help, implied or explicit and I will certainly be struggling to ‘do the right thing’.

Anyway, I’m sorry that I lied to you yesterday but it did help me to remember the good bits and your comments about those good things were also helpful, so, thanks.

It’s warm enough for cooling.

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I forgot to tell you – and it was such an exciting thing!

In the car, the heater has been set, most of the winter to about 28 degrees. I really don’t like the cold.

Recently, on my way home, I have had to turn it down or, even, off. On Friday morning, as I was coming to work, it got warm enough and I turned it down to 25 degrees.

The heating works in such a way that, for the first 5 or 10 minutes, in the morning, the heater does not come on until the engine has warmed up enough. Therefore, I get to expect that there will be no heating until I have cleaned my glasses and am about to have my first cigarette.

On Friday evening, leaving work, I drove out of the gates and, as I was driving up the road, I noticed that the heating was on straight away. Then I looked at the temperature and saw that it was 24.5 degrees and it wasn’t the heating that was on but, rather, the air conditioning and the air was cool.

Fantastic! It’s now warm enough for cooling. I am very happy.