And I call myself a writer! For shame! When I get busy--work, travel, I cease to be a writer. Lame. Embarrassing. Pathetic.
Actually, even though I have a day off before I have to pack for Rome, I barely dragged myself to my favorite cafe to write. "I'm tired, I have so many things to do, blah blah..."
But I did drag myself out, half awake ( I didn't have much sleep last night, and not to good reasons either), and took a bus.
Yes, I was even too lazy to walk.
But now I'm good, my brain is at about 40% capacity, and I'm still waiting for my soy latte to kick in.
And yes, I'm still vegan, until Sunday. On Monday, I'm reverting back to vegetarian. Why? 'Cause I'll be in Rome, and you can't be a vegan in Rome. Food, dude?! Cappuccinos?! Why do you think I'm going to Rome?!
That would be a great book title, or a story: "She went to Rome to have a cappuccino al banco."
And to put her hand into La Bocca Della Verita. Uh huh.
Last time I was there, I wanted to see the Bocca, but no one could tell me where it was, and by no one I mean random Italians in coffee shops and postcard stores.
So, this time I'm coming armed with directions and maps and walking shoes.
And I'm putting my hand into that Bocca, damn it!
Funny thing, I forgot what I wished for three years ago when I flipped that coin into Trevi. So, now how do I know if it worked?!
This time I'll write it down. Actually, I know what I want. Besides to come back to Rome. Hey, that one came true! Almost. Three days away...