Tag Archives: Work

Hang on in there!

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Hang on in there!

I am exhausted, to be honest. The holiday, in a little more than 4 weeks, can’t come soon enough. It seems I never stop.

Take last night. I rush home from work, park the car, walk to the supermarket, momentarily forgetting that it’s about 34°C and therefore walking down the street with full sun on my back rather than a slightly longer way, mostly in the shade. I buy the minimum of stuff and walk back home down the shady streets.

Arriving home, as soon as I step through the door, having stopped “doing something”, I do my Niagara Falls impression. I put away the milk and stuff, change out of my suit (I had customers at work), put on shorts and a T-shirt. Within a second my T-shirt is soaked but there’s not really much I can do. I need to take the dogs out as I need to be back by 7.

I take them out. We do a slightly shorter walk in the heat. It’s too hot for them. I get home and Niagara starts again. Half an hour later, I change my T-shirt as the Falls have stopped (thank God) but the T-shirt is completely soaked. I could manage it better if I didn’t have to rush – but I have no choice but to rush.

After my appointment, I get to read the document that someone has sent me to look at. It seems serious. I text to say that we need to talk. She asks if now is possible and I agree (I shall be busy tomorrow and I want to pack for the weekend) so we meet at Bar Blanco, the nearest bar to my house. I tell her how bad it could be but that I’ve managed to find someone who may be able to help. It’s going to cost her anyway. She is grateful, for sure, but we end up having a drink which means I’m late taking the dogs out and so late to bed.

With less that 5 hours sleep, I feel like shit. But, I feel I have to help her and cannot just walk away.

But, it costs. The cost being my tiredness.

I don’t really need the appointment tonight but it has to be. Then pack. Then the dogs. Then bed – early, I really hope. I don’t want to drive all the way down there and then spend the whole of the weekend asleep! Not that I CAN sleep on the beach, but “sleepy mode”, if I’m tired, can mean a subdued and exhausting weekend.

But, F is being “made” to take 2 weeks holiday. That’s fair enough, since for over a month he has been home for about 4 days in total. He, too, is exhausted. He is with his mother for this time, with us going down for this weekend and next.

But it’s hard for me too. I have to do everything and there’s no time and the heat means I can’t take my time – although I much prefer this heat to the cold and, if I could just take things more slowly, I’d be fine!

But, only just over a week to go before he’s back home and we can share the dog walking. And just over 4 weeks an I shall be with Best Mate AND on holiday.

Hang on in there, I tell myself.

In the meantime ……

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It’s not that I haven’t been writing.

It’s just that I haven’t been able to finish anything.

I don’t know – it’s a strange time. F has been away for almost a month now. I was joking with people the other day that I didn’t know who he was. Of course, the side-effect of this is that I have been incredibly busy, since I have to do everything at home. I don’t mind that, of course, but it all takes time.

There’s also another thing. Since I moved the blog and went through all the posts to delete some and ensure links still worked, I’ve become a bit more aware of the better writing and the boring stuff (this would go under the heading of “boring stuff”) and there’s a part of me that doesn’t finish the posts simply because I realise it’s not good writing or it falls into the category of “boring stuff”.

Of course, I should get over this. I can always delete posts later if they are really boring – like I did when I tidied things up after the move.

Also, because I’ve been so busy, there is also much less angst than usual and, as you will know, angst results in better writing. So, too busy = less angst = worse writing. A no win situation.

There have been many things that I’ve wanted to comment about, from the news, from life – but nothing really “strong”, nothing really important.

I am well. The dogs are well. F is stressed and tired but well. Summer is coming (it’s reasonably warm here if a bit temporal.)

So, that’s another thing – nothing is really happening.

Still, there ARE posts I want to finish so, who knows, maybe I will finish them soon.

In the meantime, apart from this post, I’ve been posting songs 8as you may have noticed) as a temporary stop-gap. Sorry.

How is it possible to work?

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This is another draft post from a while ago (I’m not sure when now – but sometime before March of 2014).

I am, of course, good at my job.

This is in part because I am old and, therefore, have a LOT of experience across different competencies.

It is also, in part, because I am able to see both the “bigger picture” (as it’s come to be known) and yet have an eye for detail.

And, you know the most frustrating thing about work, in general? Most people don’t have this – however bloody old they are. And now I’m working in Italy and, in particular, for a smaller company which (as far as I can tell) is run like businesses have always been run here.

So, to give an example. I need some information. This is fairly simple information which will be given to a customer. It requires about, say, half an hours thought and ten minutes writing down. Worse still, one of the people to supply me this information has actually already done this but his boss is blocking it because ……. well, just because he’s a complete arse, I suspect.

The dialogue involved the fact that they can’t give me the information because they haven’t had the material to look at. Well, I know that. We’re looking for guesses right now. There’s no way we can do more. And I won’t be holding them to these guesses in the future, as I explained. But I do need more than the couple of lines that they produced originally. After all, sending our customer those couple of lines would have made us seem really quite stupid! As I explained.

So, as I couldn’t get the information to do my job I had to go to the MD to explain. She, of course, understood immediately, what was required. And has told the arse-hole now and I shall now get the information that I could have had yesterday.

Perhaps I should be more like the effing Italians – wait until the shit hits the fan and let them take the shit?

Sometimes, I just want to say “fuck it all”. Dozy pillocks!

Spring cleaning every day.

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“Look!” he says, showing me the cloth in his hand. It has dirt on it.

“Bravo,” I respond.

He’s not really happy with my response. But no response I could make would be good enough.

“When I did the kitchen, it only took me a few minutes to do the top of the kitchen cupboards because we did them before Christmas.” “WE” didn’t do them, of course, but that’s a moot point. He continues, “This is from the cupboard in the hall. That’s why if you do it often it’s not as bad as this.”

He’s right, but ……

Nobody will look on top of the cupboard. To do so, they would need to get a pair of stepladders and climb to the top.

But, that’s not the point.

The flat was cleaned yesterday. But, this morning, it seems like we’re doing a whole spring clean thing. That’s because, tonight we’re having a party. Well, kind of. He invited a few of his colleagues, one of whom told everyone so now we have invited everyone. I say “we” when actually I mean “he”.

Of course, I don’t mind at all but he is forever apologising about it. More than that/worse than that is that he won’t let me do anything. I can’t buy anything, I can’t make anything, and, of course, I can’t clean anything. Except the dogs. I’m permitted to do them. And, after much insistence, I make my little ricotta and courgette tartlets. Better than nothing.

But, he spends all day doing this cleaning. The day before, even if the cleaner was round, he did the kitchen – including the top of the kitchen units. Everything must be perfectly clean.

It has to be some sort of obsessive compulsive disorder. I mean to say, it’s nice to have everywhere clean, but the pressure and stress that goes with it (he gets quite grumpy because he always runs out of time) is a bit over the top.

Everything must be perfect for guests – especially his guests who, of course, expect everything to be perfect because it always is.

It feels like we have spring cleaning every day!

[From Saturday]

Some hits and some misses

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I had a list of things to do on Saturday. Many things didn’t turn out as I quite expected and I did some stupid things.

So, I didn’t get up that early but after two mugs of coffee and a shower, I could face the world. After taking the dogs out, I went to get my cigarettes and went for breakfast (another coffee and a croissant) and did the supermarket shopping.

Then I went to have my haircut. Now, I may have mentioned in the past, but I have a rather weird thing about having my hair cut. It’s a bit like having sex in that it feels incredibly intimate. V used to do my hair for many years but, even before that, I had this weird feeling about having it done. And I still do. After V and I split, I went to a local barbers. But I didn’t really like it. Or, rather, I didn’t like him. Then I tried another barber and I didn’t like him much. Then, for some strange reason, I decided to grow my hair, possibly because I just hated having it cut. Eventually, I decided it wasn’t for me. I liked having long hair (I always have liked it) but it didn’t really look as I had hoped. So I went to get it cut.

And I happened upon this place and was appointed a hairdresser who tried his damnedest to give me the “David Bowie” haircut that I asked for. He was also a nice guy. And so, every 4 to 6 weeks I go back. He’s Romanian and has adopted the Italian version of his name (since Italians can be quite funny about being served by a “foreigner”.) We’ve talked during the haircuts and he’s told me how, eventually, he wants to return to his hometown and set up a hairdressers there. But, for now, he’s learning and so he will stay.

However, Saturday, he was telling me how he’s had a bit of a falling out with his boss and how his boss isn’t speaking to him now and how he’s looking to move somewhere else. I was uncomfortable with this given that I have these feelings about having my haircut and, now I’ve found someone I like and can trust, I don’t want to have to search out someone else. So, I replied to this news that I just had to know where he was going. He said it may not be for a while and I said yes, but I only come in every so often. So he suggested becoming friends on Facebook. And so now we are. And, providing he doesn’t move back to Romania or somewhere to far for me to go, I will be able to go to him. I feel like I’ve almost got a personal hairdresser again. Thank God! Although, at the same time, it feels a little strange to be friends with your hairdresser.

There was some shopping that I wanted to do. I went home and had a cup of tea first. After pouring the water out, I checked and the kettle did need descaling, so I filled it with vinegar and water and brought it to the boil. Then, as usual, I filled it with fresh water and put it on again. Before I would go out, I would turn it off, if it hadn’t boiled by then.

I finished my tea and sorted out more washing and then went out to get a) some thermal underwear (I need it for when I’m at work), b) some jeans and c) to look at possibly getting a new earring.

First, I went all the way across town to the sports shop and got some underwear for when you go skiing. after all, sometimes it is probably warmer on the slopes than it is at work.

Then back to the centre of town. It is sales time here and I thought I would go to the Iceberg shop and get some more jeans as their jeans have a cut that seems to fit really well. Obviously, it’s been some time since I’ve been to Iceberg. I say “obviously” because it’s no longer there. No problem, I have my phone. I’ll look up their website and check out where the shop is now located. Except the location was where I was – so the website wasn’t up to date. Perhaps they don’t even have a shop any more?

I was disappointed but thought that, at least, I could look for the earring. I wanted one like the one I lost. A diamond from Tiffany. Tiffany, being a jewelers, won’t be having a sale, I knew but the beginning of January would be the right time to go as, in the run up to Christmas, they have queues running outside the door!

However, it seems that January is as bad as December! The queues, whilst not outside the door, snaked round the shop. I decided to go back another time and went home instead, not entirely happy that the only thing I’d got was underwear!

As soon as I opened the door, I remembered. I remembered that I had had to turn the kettle off before leaving. Unfortunately, having NOT turned the kettle off meant that it had boiled dry. Having boiled dry, it had heated up. Having heated up (it’s one of those you put on a gas ring and it whistles when it boils), it started to melt some of the plastic which makes up the lid. Luckily, it didn’t melt the handle nor the whistle and the plastic only melted “in situ” so didn’t melt into a horrible mess on the cooker. And, after it had cooled, I found that it does work, just not as well because some steam escapes from around the lid, so the whistle isn’t at strong. But at least it works!

So, it was a day of hits and misses.

I have emailed Iceberg about the shop – but haven’t heard anything yet!

Normal service has resumed.

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Day 1:

So, that was that.

Christmas that wasn’t like Christmas at all, New Year that was, more or less, the same as normal and, with the new flat this year, more dinners than we normally do, so quite a busy couple of weeks.

And, although my pear and Gorgonzola tart went down very well, if I never have to eat it again, it will be too soon! :-)

F also had a birthday. The “real” present has not yet arrived; it should be here by the end of this month. As some “temporary” presents, the dogs “bought” him the DVD Osage: Orange County and I got him the book “The Humans” by Matt Haig, in Italian, my absolute favourite book of 2014. I hope he likes it. He’s in London until Sunday so he may get chance to read it.

And now I’m back at work for the first day back. Obviously, it’s a bit of a drag but it could be worse – I could be without a job! So, one has to be grateful for some things.

Day 2:

Last night, a friend was “passing through” Milan on her way back to Africa. I arranged to meet her although we knew it would be quite a short meeting. In the end, we had enough time to race to catch the bus she needed to get to the airport. It meant I didn’t have time to take the dogs out until much later, so, then, I had to stay up later for their final walk which means, now, that I am again as tired as I was before the Christmas holidays! All that good work gone, disappeared in a single night!

Now I need the weekend and sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

Breakneck speed …..

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As we hurtle, at breakneck speed towards the “time to go back to work” and the “time it gets to be effing cold”, I thought I’d get you up to date ……

Most years, I wish for snow at Christmas. It never happens, of course. Maybe we have some snow before Christmas but that’s gone by Christmas Eve. But, just once, it would be lovely to have snow and for everywhere to look like it does on the Christmas cards.

However, this year, I didn’t wish for snow because, for the first time ever, I would be travelling on Christmas Eve and the road/motorway I would be travelling on would be through mountains – so I definitely didn’t want snow. I didn’t even want rain, to be honest.

So, secretly wishing I wasn’t travelling but, rather, staying home, I travelled. There was little traffic and I was down there by the afternoon.

F had put the heating on for a full day but opening the door, it was like a sauna. My glasses steamed up immediately. The house has a damp problem. A big damp problem and the heat, instead of drying it out, just created a steamy atmosphere. I opened windows, hoping it wouldn’t be so bad.

To be honest, I was a little bit worried for the dogs. I’m not sure that the humid/damp atmosphere would be good for them but there really wasn’t anything I could do.

That night, we went to his cousins for something to eat. I was bloody starving as I hadn’t eaten anything all day. I had planned to have something for lunch but our cleaner was in so I didn’t and she only left at the time that I was leaving so no chance to grab something quick. I ate like a bloody horse – so much so that this was the butt of jokes over the next few days.

We slept at the house. We switched the heating off and it got very cold and damp during the night.

The next day, Christmas Day, we went round to his parents’ place to say hi. PaC, to me, didn’t look worse than the summer except he was slower and seemed resigned, almost as if he had had enough.

Then we went to the restaurant for our Christmas lunch. Christmas lunch with the extended family (not F’s but the cousin’s). It was OK but once I caught myself thinking that I may have preferred to be in Milan, on my own. Still, it was nice and I was included. F drove back and was going to drop me off at the house and then go his parents but had a headache and asked if we could go to his parents’ first and then I take the car to the house. I was to have a bath, take the dogs out and call him. I didn’t call him because it meant he could stay with PaC and I didn’t want to disturb that. Eventually, around 9, he called me. He had been sleeping and had a bad cold (which he had had before Christmas but now it was worse.) We agreed that, with his cold, it would be stupid for him to come over to the damp house to sleep and so he stayed here and I stayed at the house with the dogs. I left the heating on low all night.

To be honest, without him being there, it made it possibly the worst Christmas I’ve ever had. At least the one Christmas I had been on my own, many years ago, I had the comforts of home. Here I had no computer, no films and not even a TV! It was really dreadful.

The next day, we were to meet at his sister’s to have lunch. When we got there I said, as I decided previously that morning, that I would go home after lunch. I mean, what was the point of staying if I wasn’t even going to have the nights with him? He was happier with that too as it meant he wouldn’t have to worry about me. And, so, I came home and happier to be here. F said that it didn’t feel like Christmas and for me, it was worse, it was a crappy “weekend”.

But it’s done and over now. New Year’s Eve was the usual dinner with (mostly) self-invited guests. We put on a wonderful spread with help from FfI and her friend, H. We finished at 4 a.m. I think it was successful.

And now, tomorrow, is F’s birthday. The special thing which I helped to fund via Kickstarter has not arrived in time, so it will have to be a birthday present to come later. In the meantime, I’ve bought an Italian copy of The Humans by Matt Haig, my favourite book of 2014, a DVD and one of those cards with the year he was born.

Tomorrow, as well, because we didn’t have our usual Boxing Day lunch with P and A, we shall have that, to celebrate his birthday. Then there’s a dinner party for A, my friend, and his girlfriend on Monday, then Tuesday is the “take the tree down” and him getting ready for London and Wednesday is all back to the usual grind.

And, apart from the day before New Year’s Eve, when he was a complete bastard (but I’m trying to be so patient with him given the circumstances) it’s all been either OK or, in the last few days, quite lovely. We now have TV and so we’ve been spending some time watching films and stuff in the lounge, which has been nice.

From Wednesday, he’ll be in London for over a week and I’ll be struggling to get back into the swim of things.

And, so, I hope you all have a great 2015. Wishing you all a very happy New Year.

A Dilemma

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So, for the first time since I’ve been working here, I have a dilemma.

This might be a little difficult to explain but I’ll give it a try.

The players involved are R, the boss of the company; her daughter, D; her ex-son-in-law, T. a guy who works as an agent for us, Z; M, a colleague and, of course, me.

I am “connected” to T via LinkedIn. I met him once, when he was still with D, at the Paris Air Show. Since then they had a baby and are now separated, if not, divorced. From what I’ve heard, all is not well between D and T and, so, also between R and T.

T sent me a message requesting the email address of Z. Now, Z is one of the sneakiest, slimiest, most nasty pieces of work you could possible hope to ever meet. He must be about 70 and is an agent for us in a Far Off Country (on which I have done at least one post). He is constantly contacting R behind my back, even if I am the Project Manager and he should come through me. Anyway, I also make sure R knows everything that’s going on so that she never gets some sneaky email about something she doesn’t already know about. It’s the only way to “beat” the miserable bastard.

Normally, of course, in a standard situation, I would email Z and ask him if it’s OK to give the email address to T. In this case, though, if he emails R, she will know and she may not be happy about me giving the email address to T (or, for that matter, that I have any contact with T). Of course, I don’t know, for certain, that she has a real problem with T but I’ve been told so by someone who works here, M, who is still friends with T.

So, emailing Z to ask if it’s OK is not really on. At the same time, telling R about it first, may also not be the best thing, especially if she says “no”. I mean to say, it might cause further problems between R and T and I don’t want to really be the cause of that, do I? However, I can’t really ignore the request either.

And, of course, I don’t really know T. If I were to give him the email address without telling anyone else, will he then, at a later date, spill the beans on me? I mean, Z may be aware of the problems and, as soon as T gets in touch with him, he could go straight to R.

So, as I’m writing this, this is my plan. I speak to M and see what he knows about the situation between R and T. Then email T to tell him what I will do. If he is OK with it, then I tell R and ask if it’s OK. If so, then I email Z and ask for permission to pass on the email address and then, providing I get the OK, pass the email address on to T. A bit convoluted, eh?

But any other way is a bit risky, I think. Don’t you?

Glimpses, in passing.

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“I’ll be home about lunchtime,” he says.

“Text me when you leave,” I say. He says he will.

Around 3, I start to wonder where he is. I never really expected him to be home by lunchtime, to be honest. However, I thought he would be home by now.

Just after 4, I start to worry. I send him a message. Around half four, he sends me a message back to say he’s filling up with petrol and is about an hour away. So, not only is he late but he didn’t text me beforehand. However, I know I won’t mention it – even if I want to.

He arrives. He goes to lie down with the dogs for a while and then showers and then we go out for a meal. We chat. About many things. It’s nice to have him back, even if it’s just for two nights.

That night, neither of us sleep well. It seems the mosquitoes come only when he’s there, like they know he’s back and so come and bother us. The next morning, in spite of him saying he wanted to take the dogs out, I leave him sleeping. After all, this month or so has been very tiring for him. What with work and all the other stuff.

We go for breakfast and then he goes to work. It’s Sunday but he’s not been in the office since the previous Friday – but maybe even longer, I can’t remember. He needs to do stuff. He suggests that he might go to the showroom later and, if so, I can come with the dogs and he can meet us and we do a walk with them.

He doesn’t text me. Eventually, around 5 he texts me to say he’s coming home. When he gets home he asks if I’ve taken the dogs out. I explain that I had not because I had been waiting for his call. Anyway, I am in the middle of washing stuff (glasses, plates, etc.) that had to be hand washed. But I don’t explain that because he can see what I’m doing. He seems annoyed that I hadn’t taken them out. I say that I had been waiting for the call from him. He still seems annoyed but I’m not going to explain further.

He says he will take them out. I say I will, if he wants but, again, I’m not going to push it. He takes them out.

Then he wants to go out for a drink. We go out. His colleagues/friends come. Then we go for a pizza.

Another really crap night. Not only mosquitoes but also, I think, because we’re not used to sleeping together. What has it been? Perhaps a total of 5 nights in the last month?

This morning he gets up just after me to take the dogs out. This morning (as I write this), he’s flying out and will be back Sunday afternoon. Then, two days later we go away for a night. After that, more or less, he’ll be at home. Thank God! It will take some adjustment, of course.

It’s like we have been glimpsing each other, in passing, for a long, long time. And both of us have had enough.

The “Mafia” and the Catholic Church – two institutions that “run” Italy

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There’s a story about squatters living in one of the churches in Rome that the Pope uses.

They are, in fact, making some sort of demonstration about the housing crisis in Rome.

However, I was struck by the following:

“We are an alarm call, a heads-up that the housing system in Rome is collapsing,” said Luca Bonucci, 38, a former security guard who lost his home when his employer failed to pay him for a year.

The thing that struck me was not that the housing system in Rome is collapsing, nor that this guy was a former security guard that is now unemployed, nor that he “lost” his home.

It is that his employer failed to pay him for a year!

This is something that seems quite common here, in Italy.

In the UK, I only heard about this happening (for an extended period of time) for one person. Here, I’ve heard about it often. It seems a common thing.

Of course, this has all to do with cashflow management – and how good or bad the managers are at managing it.

It’s not helped by the fact that Italian government and council agencies still find it acceptable to pay companies late – more than 90 days – and yet those same agencies demand money immediately or, even, (from what I understand) in the case of VAT (IVA, here), up front! But it’s not only government and council agencies.

I can’t imagine continuing to work somewhere when I wasn’t paid – for a whole year!

It’s not even as if wages here are so huge. In fact, as I’ve mentioned before now, I still can’t quite understand how this country functions with wages set so low.

As usual, the solution to this (and most problems here), is a change in thinking. A change that seems unlikely to come any time soon.

I remember one of my “contracts” here when I was teaching. I did some work that was funded through the EU, providing cut-price lessons to companies in Italy. The pay for me was quite high (compared to most English teaching “jobs”) and the funding actually came through charity organisations. Since I did a number of these contracts, I had different contracts with different charity agencies.

All of them were really good – except one. The one that was terrible was the “Catholic” one. For this one, I really had to fight for my money. The others paid me almost as soon as the courses were complete. This one kept me hanging on for a couple of months. Eventually, I went to their headquarters. I was told that the person who could sign the cheque was not there right now. I said I would wait. They told me that it was not a good idea to wait as they didn’t know when he would come in but they would make sure that he signed the cheque as soon as he came in and I should come back the next day.

I went back the next day. Apparently, for one reason or another, he hadn’t signed the cheque. And he wasn’t there right now but they would get it done today and I could come back tomorrow. I explained that that wasn’t good enough and that I wasn’t trekking all the way across town again.

I said I would wait.

They didn’t want that but they thought that I would give up and go after an hour or so. They had no idea who they were dealing with. I waited for an hour and a half to two hours.

Suddenly I was called to the desk as somehow, miraculously, they had the cheque! This was strange, as no one had entered the building since I had arrived, apart from people going to the desk and then leaving!!!! I thanked them but told them that I would never do work for them again. I was shocked at the time as I never expected a Catholic charity to be lying bastards.

Catholic charities, it seems, are the worst for paying their debts! So it seems justified (in a justice sense) that the Catholic Church should suffer the homeless people who may have even been made homeless by their failure to pay the company for which poor Luca worked. Even if it wasn’t a Catholic charity directly, you can be certain they were involved somewhere down the line. They are, after all, as prolific here as the “Mafia”. And, to be honest, I would put them both in the same category of organisation.

The full link to the article is here