Life is neat

I wanted to know the right fancy word for winter depression so I entered 'winter depression' on wikipedia and it spat out the Seasonal affective disorder entry. Neat. The entry said that moving south helps but it somehow forgot explain why the hell I feel like shit here, in Florence, Italy. Back beyond the Alps, there's snow and light, here it's dreary, grey and uninviting outside.

I had my first exam today, Swedish. Not technically the very first but first after the procrastinating due to my winter depression (vinterdepression. Neat, too). I mentioned it after blabbering something incoherent and the professor recommended me seeing a shrink. Also neat; my insurance wouldn't cover it and I try to avoid shrinks since that incident when one caused me a false pregnancy by trying to cure my sick stomach with antidepressants.

I had a list of things I wanted to do, like, buing a perspex bracelet if I pass, buying a blossoming camellia, asking at the tourist information how do I get to I Tatti, signing up for language course, buyin g yarn for Sue's sweater, buying food and quite probably something else. Yeah, going to Riccardiana. I passed, bought that bracelet in one shop in via Ginori where I had seen it weeks ago (it was twice as expensive as I expected but bite it), went to Riccardiana which is almost next door and made a total idiot of myself there. It's not only the library in the building but also some municipal offices and I asked the receptionist where do I get the card. We had a meaningless exchange and then she probably got the point - a crazy person has to be going to the library and told me where it is. I found out that my presentation letter is neat, too, but il professore forgot to sign it. I must however say that it's a library up to my taste, it smells of old books and has chairs upholstered in pink velvet. Not that the pink velvet was that important, grey twill would do, too, but there are nice soft upholstered chairs.*
The tourist office lady was an idiot. She did manage to google Villa Berenson or I Tatti or whatever, including the address. I have a vague idea that it's somewhere in the general direction of Settignano but the address of via Comecavolosichiama didn't ring a bell. And, it's technically in Fiesole. The woman found it in a map - the street is off via D'Annunzio so towards Settignano indeed, as the map showed, but since it's listed as Fiesole (no I don't know and I don't want to know who invented such catastral divisions), I was told to take the #7 bus to Fiesole and ask someome there. And possibly walk five kilometres. I didn't argue, I was too tired but I saw on the map where the place is - my city map ends two blocks towards the city centre. Via D'Annuzio goes all the way to Settignano, #10. I wanted to go there straight away but I missed the bus so I went to sign up for the courses. I was there early so I went to Campolmi's to get the yarn. I hit the lunch break so I went home instead.
It is actually really warm. I'll paint my toenails and start wearing Birks again. Not as good as spring but better than nothing. I could use some lighter sweater, I felt too hot even in the hoodie.
I wanted to post some kitschy Florence picture but apart from not being able to do anything but rot at home, I wasn't able to focus properly when I was doing a bit of photography that month ago.
Maybe I should have a nap.
-----------------------
*Note to self: I have to note in my last will that my book collection be presented separately in a reading room with comfortable furniture. I hate my ass being pressed flat by all that oak and plywood and whatever crap they use so at least this way I could do something nice for the posterity