when you've lived in italy for four weeks . . .

when you've lived in italy for four weeks . . .

1. there will always be that one person, even among all the beauty and kindness surrounding you, who will point out the (obviously) negative, and tell you why things are not going to work out. (just in case you haven't already gone through that scenario a thousand times in your head.) you will strive from that moment on to never be that person.

2. the amazon/italy delivery guy might tell you that trump is a "cervello gallina." and confirm that, yes, what the united states does as a nation is watched around the world.

3. the internet installation guy might show up at your house during his off hours with the 20 euros he owes you. and restore your faith in mankind.

4. you may realize, if you're used to making friendly acquaintances wherever you go, that not knowing the local language can be a problem. (and may indicate that it's time to hit the italian workbooks again!)

5. you will wonder if it's just you or if the waste/recycling system is actually kind of complicated. even with an english calendar provided. (and your garbage might not be picked up the first time you put it out.)

6. your container will eventually arrive in europe! (currently in lisbon, portugal.) so all that worry about the ship sinking in the ocean will be useless angst. (and perhaps your remaining anxieties will prove to be fruitless as well.)

7. you'll have a lot on your mind and you might awake in the suffocating darkness night after night, with your thoughts quickly following suit. it may help to watch through the window for that first faint light of morning, that shimmering glimmer of hope. because it always comes, it will always be better.

8. you'll realize it's hard to be away from family and friends. unbelievably hard. you may not feel as if you can fully be yourself, singing off-key and dancing, even in your own home. and if you've always been able to make people laugh, that spark of inspiration may not be there when no one understands what it is you're trying desperately to say.

9. suddenly having limited options will be extremely frustrating. you didn't think it would bother you as much as it does. but it feels so confining, so restricting, that it encroaches upon other areas of your life.

10. the saga with the immigration and residency requirements will continue. (sigh.) and you will recall your grandma's best friend (who was also from italy) calling (in all seriousness) your town's governmental office "city hell." you'll remember how you always laughed and assumed it was her broken english. but you will come to realize she may have known something you didn't. (local city hell, right across the street from the villa.)

11. on thanksgiving day in america, you'll be grateful as always for family. but you'll also silently give thanks to the special people who have not only stuck with you throughout this craziness, but who will remain your closest friends no matter where you go or what you do. (and you're pretty sure they'll know who they are by this description. and they'll know that you'll love them forever.)     *******     click to receive my studio notes in your inbox each week. (and get my complimentary guide to weightless as my gift to you!)   [maxbutton id="1"]    

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