Kate’s Roman Holiday

Ok– Not really a holiday– more like a Roman flight of fancy.

Sure. Some people might accuse me of putting off writing my self-evaluation, which is part of my annual review at work… um…and they might be right.

It’s not that I don’t want to write it. I just haven’t figured out if “tired of bending over and taking it” goes in the Teamwork and Interpersonal Skills section, or in the Areas for Improvement Section. Decisions. Decisions. At least that long-standing question of “does anyone ever read these things” will be answered.


My general work dissatisfaction, and end of the year reflection, has left me pondering a change more seriously. And then I had this fateful conversation with a friend.

Me: “ooooh, you have a Rome office. I don’t suppose there are any openings there. Ha Ha”

Her: “There is. Our person there just announced he was leaving.”

(insert sound effect of needle scratching across a record here)

Rome. Suddenly all things wrong with the world could be fixed with one word, “Rome”.

Sigh. So, instead of rationally assessing the situation (work would be the same, I’d have to move, I don’t speak Italian, etc.), my thoughts went something like this:

*Rome– where a few extra pounds probably don’t matter… in fact, I’m sure I heard they were celebrated… mandated… a requirement for your resident visa.

*Rome– where all the men look like the ones in this picture that El sent to me (shhh… my fantasy, work with me)

*Rome– where I’m sure I’ll be paid to eat yummy food, drink wine and soak up the atmosphere (see paragraph above for atmosphere appropriate for soaking)

*Rome– where my fabulous Italian shoes will never scuff because I’ll be carried on a chaise by Romans (again, see above) through the crowded streets where I’d be admired and adored (and in no way robbed like T on the train the last time I was in Rome).

*Rome– where my charm is so obvious that I am instantly understood and lauded for my eloquence despite not speaking a word of Italian.

Yep. It was good, but in reality I’d be fired in the first week, my roman conveyance would end up being dropped, and I’d land in a fountain with a pack of wild dogs. So, I settled for seeing “The Light in the Piazza” (which was wonderful) and appreciated the fine talents of the cast… including the very fine Fabrizio.

Ah, Rome. 🙂

Kate, who is rethinking the whole “I don’t watch soccer” thing, in LA

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *