Pure, uninterrupted, glorious sleep. I've forgotten what it is. Blame it on a comedy of errors but I'm beginning to find the situation very unamusing.
To start, my bed belongs in a dollhouse not an adult's bedroom. It's like Honey I Shrunk the Bed, and after 5.5 months I'm nearing my breaking point.
To worsen matters a mosquito has been camping out in my bedroom all week. By day he hides like a coward, but as soon as my head hits the pillow and the lights go out he starts dive-bombing my face.
This morning in a desperate 4am stupor, it was me against mozzie. I waited until I felt him land on my forehead then, with one swift blow...SPLAT. If he comes back from the dead tonight, I might just pack my bags. Oh, and you might be wondering how I know the bugger is a "he" - well it reminds me of many guys I've met along my travels. They lay dormant for days and weeks at at a time, no calls, no texts, no emails. Then when they are in the mood for some fun and games they come annoyingly buzzing and won't leave you alone. Then in the end you are left with no choice but to break out your fly swatter and....SPLAT. Heh, it's fun comparing vermin and men.
The other annoyance has been the revolving door of workers who allow themselves into the apartment unannounced and spend the better part of the morning drilling, sawing, and hammering the walls in the bathroom (adjacent to my room).
The first morning I was laying in bed enjoying my coffee and was startled by two men changing into their work trousers on the terrace outside my window. Now if it were two Armani models I might have let it slide, but trust me, they were nothing of the sort so I opened my window and caught them with their pants down...literally.
Scuaste - chi siete e perche siete qui, a casa mia? (Excuse me, who are you and why are you in my house?)
Slightly embarrassed, they quickly slipped on their coveralls and told me that the owner of the apartment had given them the key --a minute detail that our scatter-brained capo di casa neglected to tell any of us.
Yesterday, even more of the workers were here causing massive confusione. Unfortunately for them, I was also home...sore throat...PMSing...and sleep deprived. They kept leaving the front doors wide open letting all of Treviso's unseasonably cold air and rain inside the apartment. I passive aggressively slammed the doors a few times to indicate that they should be CLOSED, but to no avial. So then I moseyed over to the bathroom in my highly intimidating "home sick" sweatpants and gave them a piece of my mind. Wow...that the first time I ever said anything angry in a foreign language!! Almost more fun than comparing men and mosquitoes.