I'm not at all convinced that EVERY day consists of 24 hours.
There is simply no way.
Perhaps SOME days are 24 hours...like Tuesdays, or maybe even Thursdays.
But Mondays have to be pushing 36, maybe even 40 hours.
Often times I sit in class, staring at my watch, taking my pulse to make sure I am, in fact, still alive and I swear...I have seen that minute hand actually move backwards.
Time is deceiving. True, it's always happening. Time is always moving.
But like Willy Wonka's elevator, it's not always just straight up and down.
But rather it moves, front-ways and sideways and slant-ways and back-ways.
Minutes are sometimes composed of 60 seconds, but other times, like when you're waiting for popcorn in the microwave or water to boil, they are 90, 100, 120 seconds long!
But when you're late for work, the second hand suddenly turns to helicopter mode and slashes about your watch as time virtually disappears.
Don't even get me started on Saturdays and Sundays which seem to end before they even begin.
Today was Sunday, I think.
It's hard to tell. You need to be careful on these days, if you lift your watch wrist too high in the air, you are at the risk of flying away, like Mary Poppins and that stupid umbrella. (Side note, telling a British woman you're not a fan of Mary Poppins is like saying you hate the Queen...)
With that said, I may have been living in Italy for over a month, but it's hard to tell...
Sometimes I wonder if I have just arrived and other times it feels as if I'll never leave.
But here are a few of my favorite things...
The Breakfast of Champions in Roma.
Fun in Firenze.
Gallery, post ridiculous hours of art-making.
Making friends with the wildlife of Siena...or maybe even Florence or Rome...because I have no idea where this picture was taken.