I'm sitting in a piazza in San Giovanni right now, stealing internet. The sun has illuminated the side of an orange building, and there are about six old ladies on the benches here enjoying the Sunday afternoon. I've moved into a hostel for the next six days, and this morning Bruna the landlady offered to let me move into the apartment for a reasonable rate, so once this six day stint is up at the 'Youth Station' I'll be moving back in with the gang. I'm sleeping in a narrow room with six sets of bunkbeds, and of course, being the awkward giant that I am, I get to sleep on a top bunk--yeehaw. It's a good thing the hostel doesn't have a curfew or lockout period, because I didn't get in from a night on the town until 6am (though I was very economical about it), and I slept until about 1. Yay unemployment on the weekends. I wish I could've slept longer, but there's this one couple that decided traveling really only makes sense if you use plastic bags as luggage, so for about an hour all I heard was the rustling of plastic bags, and it wasn't a gentle rustling in a "Damn these bags are loud, I'll do my best not to wake up the 10 other people in this room" sense, but a "I'm gonna rustle around in this bag like I've never rustled before. I will be violently searching for something, and I probably won't even find it until I've gone through about 6 or 7 bags." November 6th will probably be the greatest day I've had here, simply because it means I'll be in my own apartment, where the landlady doesn't sleep on the couch for days at a time, I'll only have one roommate, there'll be space to move around, to hang out, to eat, and all those other things that are fun to do in one's own apartment.
Now I just need to get hours together to pay for rent and such. The comforting factor is that other teachers are having a tough time getting hours through their schools too, so at least I'm not the sole member of the "Holy crap what's going to happen?" club.

Apparently yesterday my parents and nieces woke up to two inches of snow in Vermont. Wow. That's hardly feasible for me to think of, seeing as this morning I was sweating through my clothes while walking around the city. Plus, in less than eight weeks I'll be home for the holidays, and that's crazy to think of too. Time has been flying by, despite the endless days of job searching and waiting. Once I get a little more settled, I know I'll be glad to come back to Rome in January--heck, maybe I'll even have enough to go on a little ski vacation. I can only dream...