I've been spending a lot of time sitting on wet, hot towels, because my doctor is a "moist heat kind of guy." Elvis, after some effort, managed to extract a promise from me to call him Wednesday, so I did. The doctor wanted me to come in, which I did. I don't need oral antibiotics, which is good, but I still need to keep an eye on it in case it does get infected and turns into an abscess.

"Do you realize," said the Doctor, "that you only ever come in to see me when you've inflicted some sort of major trauma on yourself?"

Yes, actually, I do realize that. I'm not a big one for check-ups, excepting my ob/gyn. I don't get sick very often, and if I do I just suck it up and carry on as normally as possible. However, I am, unfortunately, a big one for injuring myself in creative ways.

This lack of mobility is a toughie, though. I really, truly do not have time for this.

The plumbing problem that's taken out my washing machine has not been fixed yet, or even looked at. There's someone at the Italian Office of the Company helping me with that one, though, which is nice.

Maggie, who is a future candidate for sainthood, took a big suitcase full of dirty laundry to her house and washed it herself. She volunteered to do this, it was her idea, and she nagged at me until I agreed to allow her to do it. Incredible. You do not get better friends than that.

I'm going to miss her.

And I"m going to start missing her sooner than I thought, which brings me to the major reason I don't have time for gimpy legs and plumbing problems.

We're moving.

This has been in the works for a while, but the Italian Division has been stalling and dragging their feet. Elvis gets paid salary, but they charge The Client for his services at an hourly rate.

Elvis puts in a lot of hours.

Furthermore, the Italian Division has been losing consultants left and right. It doesn't look good, no it doesn't. Especially since they and their management skills (or lack thereof) are at the root of the problem.

Elvis wants out. We've been here 2.75 years, and Elvis wins the dubious honor of the Italian Division's longevity award. But he's had enough. He's lasted longer than everybody, but everybody has their breaking point.

The Italian Division and the Client are worried that they won't be able to do without him.

They are going to have to try.

When the US and European Divisions of the Company found out that the Italians hadn't even told the Client that Elvis "might be going, sometime in the future" until late Monday, the shit hit the fan. I mean, negotiations over this have been going on for months. US and Europe are fed up. They set a date and told the Italians they'd just have to deal with it, because they were sick of their stonewalling and other crap.

Tuesday night, we were informed that Elvis will be starting work in Portugal bright and early on Monday, July 1.

This is not a lot of time, but we've had less time to move before. We can handle it. And since I've got enough to be worrying about as it is, I feel no need to panic about moving to a different country in eleven days flat.

The Client is not happy. And we don't blame them-- they're left with less than two weeks to get a replacement and get them up to speed on the project. We're not happy either, as it might make Elvis look bad. The Client was informed of his leaving date on Wednesday. Elvis talked to the Client, though, and they understand that it's not our fault. They have to deal with the Italian Division as well, and they know how they operate.

So, after lots of to-ing and fro-ing yesterday, we agreed to stay until July 12. The Portugese Client is OK with this, too.

On the one hand, once the date was set we were just wanting to get it over with. Let's get the hell out of here and go for it. On the other, it does give us more time to tie up loose ends, get things organized, say goodbye.

So. Three weeks left in Italy. It's official.

But first, I'm off to make lunch. The US-Germany match starts soon, and I intend to be planted firmly in front of the TV for the duration.