neither here nor there

August is an uncomfortable month. I have plans through December, but August is a black hole. Ideally I'd be working hard in the archives or vacationing on a beach somewhere, but the archives are closed and I can't afford a vacation away from BO. When I do leave, it will be to take care of all sorts of obnoxious tasks in New York: dentists and doctors and paperwork for the university and trips to the Italian consulate. I'm looking forward to seeing my people again, but it won't be under the best of circumstances. Reverse culture shock makes me cranky and unsociable. I'll try not to spend the whole time being disgusted by the food and going through real coffee withdrawal...

In the meantime I have a routine of early mornings spent taking care of the house, leisurely breakfast, reading, talking to my plants (they're anglophones, because they're succulents. the rationale: in Italian they're called piante grasse, or fat plants. since Americans are fat, my plants understand American English). My shower is brief; the water heater seems to have a capacity measurable in teaspoons. I watch a little news, check email and the NYTimes, and start out on the goal of the day: writing the Fulbright application.

I might punctuate the day with a pilgrimage to il Gelatauro for almond-orangeblossom gelato, or browse a bookstore. I'm not out much in the evenings lately, since everyone is on vacation.

A quiet life, for now.