Last week was one of my usual settimanine grotesque and tiring.
Monday I do not even remember what happened, probably nothing. Tuesday
are at work, quiet and peaceful Lady Mara comes to me and says, "Look, there's Sara, who is ill."
Ok, I jump, I pause and go up. His eyes are bloodshot and his face in pain, I look at it, can not do it. Ok, come on, come on, I'll take you home. Next to us are responsible for the call center. I tell him that I take away Sari, we ask both two-hour permit, fill out forms, take them, I drag myself up to down in the car. "So, we take the secondary roads that in theory I could not move." Ok, fine. Well.
we can get from her, I round the block to find parking, there is none, "Come on, come down here at the gate to leave the door open and then I go up, while I go park the car."
And I feel the whole Mother Teresa of Calcutta. I'm helping my friend who is ill. I am a superhero. So
parking, I get up and spend the evening with her. We shoot movies on film and distract us from evil. Step
the usual sleepless night because of Nini and Cyrus, the cats are still jumping on the bed, Cyrus even take the liberty to throw me in the face of the muzzle. And I can not do it, these cats make me laugh too.
So first sleepless night.
The next day, during the morning break I remember that I told Sari where I parked the car, so I call her, she's still in bed, with a voice from beyond the grave answer me and tell where the machine , where the serve and I answered: "Ah, well, where are the market this morning."
Occazzo.
Occazzo.
Occazzo.
"Ok, I'll see and let you know."
The recall after 10 minutes and from there my part merdoledì passion.
HAVE TAKEN AWAY THE CAR.
NO.
No, can not be, can not be such an idiot.
No.
It 's impossible.
facts. I brought my friend home and I have not said where I parked the car. This friend is going through a periodaccio from different points of view, molteplicissimi views. It is nice to add concerns to friends who are already ill. Especially because this concern in more cost to you of money.
No, not really that great.
So for the rest of the day I spend an entire phone recharge in a desperate attempt to find out where the hell they took the car and keep me company there was the delicious Italic bureaucracy.
Nothing, in the end we found it, but not could go to pick her up that night because there was no coupon dell'asiscurazione on the dashboard so you have to go to the insurance and then make a complaint to the police for the loss.
And that day has not really done anything. And I was also in
premestruo. I wanted to die.
So Scazzi that night. ABA
the morning alarm clock, direction central station and then Zion Schwizzera.
The day there is left smooth. On the train back together with the colleagues you down two liters of wine, one of my father, that fact down in the garage.
:)
get home at midnight, defeat. I can not sleep because of pressures proposals received during the evening. The next day
are off, but I still wake up early to go with Sari to get the car.
E today to take a fourth, to bring it to a mechanic in Island for review by the city police for reporting the coupon. And Sari is to eat at my house, spaghetti with purpetta mom and then her home in Milan and I running around shopping for my mother to take an exercise bike.
At 4 pm I'll jump into bed exhausted, an hour of sleep and then get my little cousin.
Ok, get up.
the evening, in overalls, with Sari'm going to see Alessandro Fiori Radio Popolare. Cute.
This is the song that made me almost cry.
I went in on purpose, this suit then I want to sneak home and sleep soundly. We get a beer with Mauro, from whose lips out one of the funniest stories I've ever heard in my life, stuff to remove stains from his face on the table with laughter ... Then
accompany the Frida Sari, telling her that I will not stop because I'm exhausted.
"Come on, there is the Cole."
Ok, I come to say goodbye to Cole.
And I'll take another beer.
and start playing a game of cards that I do not know how many times he sees a loser.
And they made two in the morning and we kicked out the club.
No.
z and I do not.
I'll jump into bed at dawn of 3 in the morning. At 7:25
alarm. You go to work.
I carry a book by, shawls, there is nothing to do, cool.
But no. Bring me back to the booth of the supervisor. Holy shit.
At one point, my notes I write in block capital letters: "Kill me."
and showed it to many people as possible, hoping that someone will accept my petition.
vain. Incredibly
when I leave work I recover, I feel Jessica, cinema program peaceful. Ceno
with two trousers and 'na bbirra. Even my grandson with us. Every day he asked me and my mother while kneading his pants, he showed me a lot of balls pizza dough, all for me.
Jessica Albo and he feels his own free will to decide we going to see "The speech of the King."
And let's go. Provo
jeans, but they're all incredibly close to me, and then slip into a skirt and go.
The film is incredible, he, Colin Firth crazy. After the cinema
a beer and here we go when we kicked out. At 4 am
collapse on the bed.
At 11 am a 4 year old child who usually love the madness begins to shout at me to get up in the ears.
I hated with my whole being.
And it's over on Sunday afternoon, I nailed to the bed.
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