Okay – that’s not true. I’ve actually only had one pint of beer.
And I’ve actually thought about this blog a lot but mostly because I haven’t really had any superbly profound thoughts to expound. My life has mostly consisted of wake up, eat pastry, walk, see sights, eat pasta, walk, see sights, drink beer (or hot chocolate, but more frequently, beer), see more sights, spend exorbitant amounts of money on Italian leather, drink more beer, eat pizza, drink some wine, come home, collapse in semi-drunken stupor. Wash, rinse, repeat.
And I actually don’t think this is an “Eran on vacation” kinda thing. I think this is actually how Italians live their lives. I spent four nights in Venice, and walked past the same little shops every day with the same people sitting inside, casually flipping through their newspaper or staring thoughtfully out the shop window. There was never another soul in the shop. But they didn’t seem concerned. It was all so very laid back and European – a stark contrast to the North American life that I’ve been striving for and that I see so many people living.
So I wonder, could I sit in a small shop, reading the daily paper, thinking deep thoughts, nibbling on a pastry and having casual conversation with the shopkeeper next door, day after day? Casually enjoying life as it strolls past, whistling or humming a simple tune and not being obsessively concerned with my bank account or my schedule of meetings or the pile of emails in my inbox waiting to be answered?
Could I do that?
Heck no. But I’m gonna try. For the next 2 weeks, I’m gonna cross my fingers and hope that some of it transfers over to my real life.