Spent most of the morning waiting for the plumber. As you do. Not that anything is wrong: well, not at the moment anyway. However, for reasons known only to The Landlord, i tre cavalieri are going to come in, break my "kitchen" floor from the outside wall to under the kitchen sink, through the wall, and into the toilet, remove the pipe and replace it with a larger one.

Oh joy.

They maintain that it will take them four days. I do not believe this, although they were right on the money about the time needed to replace the heating system last summer, so I suppose there is some probability that they will finish. Four days sitting around listening to sledgehammers and family arguments is bad, but not the end of the story. First, the pipe in question runs under a large bookcase cabinet, which will have to be moved. To where? In a place this size, who knows. The hall maybe? Or to the living room area of our one-room living space? More probable, as it will make things just that little bit more unlivable. Plus, said bookcase/cabinet is full of glasswhere, ornamental pottery, usable pottery, our liquor collection, casseroles and the like. Where will that go, considering our pitiful storage space is full and every cabinet we own stuffed beyond capacity? The living area, I suppose. It would cover our bed completely and we'll need the bedroom for sleeping/ hiding from the plumbers. Only, it's gonna take more area than our coffee table provides, and the couch as well, so it will have to be arranged, at least in part, artistically on the floor in the most cat-proof way possible.

But wait, there's more! The kitchen counter is made from one solid piece of marble. The carpenter (special guest appearance) has stated he will try to prop it up somehow, although this plan has generated some controversy. If that fails to work, however, the whole thing will have to be removed. And put where? You get the point, although the itty-bitty balcony may work. Oh, and the butcher block table with the microve on it, currently crammed in the corner and making 25% of the chairs at the kitchen table unusable, has got to go as well. Plus the catfood, and the litter box once they break through to the bathroom.

The "good" news, and it's very relative, is that the toilet should only be out of commission one day. Well, one night: it will not be usable at all during the day.

I don't know whether to cry, or start breaking glassware. It would be less to move and find space for if I did the latter, but I'd still have to clean it up, so I've settled for drinking from it.

So Middle Plumber turns up, late. Says he wants to start next Monday. I told him he could think again; I've got plans. But Signora, he says, I told you we were going to need four days the last time. Right. And he did. In December, and when I asked him for a date he informed me after the 6th of January. Not very specific, eh? So I told him he could come the week after next. Gave him the dates I'll be able to be here. He doesn't like it, I'm sure. I don't care.

They're coming a week from Monday. In the meantime, I'll need to do extra yoga and meditation to prepare myself mentally for the ordeal. I wonder if they sell valium over the counter in Italy. Prozac?

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The extension uproar continues at W's work. Seems they're trying to impose the contract from hell on everyone. And no one is signing, either. W's Boss in Dallas, (whom I've never met, and W has seen maybe once), says via email that she is amazed that no one has told us until now. She also says that the localization issue is causing the exact same reaction that they've been telling Italy it would for MONTHS! (Caps hers.) Funny, no one ever thought to mention it to us. She advises us to "sit tight.. the fun is just beginning."

Which is pretty damn reassuring, don'tcha think?

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Tomorrow night is "Ladies Night" with some of the woman that work with W and some of the other wives.

I plan on drinking heavily.