Who cares, eh?
Yesterday, I had to take my car in for servicing. The "Service Engine" light came on just before I left for Italy and I thought I should get it checked. Two and a half hours later... all is well. What a waste of my time.
Then I drove to the other end of town to pick up a little bolt to fix the shoulder strap on my laptop case. That experience was a bit more satisfying - the man at the store found me just what I needed and gave it to me for free!
I registered my boarding passes so I can get Aeroplan points (and save for next year's flight...).
I wrote and mailed a letter.
I made another gathered clutch (these are a bit addictive because they're so easy, fast and CUTE).
This one is a bit more formal, with a wrist strap and a red, raw silk lining. But still playful because of the polka-dot band on the front. I love it - so I'm keeping it for me!
I also played around a little with some sea glass I picked up on the beach at Vico Equense.
I washed it again to get more salt off it, and it is now displayed in a jar.
I still need to:
- fix the OnlyChild's work pants and mend a hole in her dress
- pick up a prescription at the pharmacy
- do my nails
- laundry - must leave clean towels for the family
- iron and pack
- clean the bathroom (I did the rest of the house yesterday)
- create and mail August ATCs
- learn to speak French fluently (haha). Actually, I can speak French but I wouldn't say I'm fluent in the language. At the very least, though, I'd say my French is much better than my Italian. That was quite obvious on the last trip when I was trying to have a conversation with the bus driver. Between the two of us, we spoke four languages; unfortunately, none of them overlapped.
Mr. P is trying to get me to do some painting (the trim in the house) this week. So far my resistance has proven successful. I will have to schedule activities for the next couple of days to ensure I am not made to do that despicable chore.
Mostly, though, I've spent a lot of time daydreaming.
The day we spent in Sorrento was probably one of the most peaceful experiences I've ever had. I sat by myself in a little park across the (narrow) street from a church where a wedding was just finishing. I read my Italian phrase book (out loud) and pretended I lived there. I want to go back soooo bad.
Am I crazy?