Back to Florence

I'm back to Italy. After usual travel vicissitudes - I hate travelling, you know - I had the chance to go for lunch with the gals I used to hang together all the previous semester and whom I badly missed in summer. I told them to let me know and simply come but none did - maybe I didn't sound serious enough in that offer and it served me right, I was stuck at home with mildly entertaining and mostly annoying relatives and my own boredom.

I'm the fattest and ugliest of the bunch, should you not know. I'm also quite possibly the laziest.
I'd like to have M. at home, though. I haven't deciphered yet whether she's just being nice or whether she really means it but she thinks that I'm generous because I brought her some stuff she'd like(my mom would call that stupid), brave because I'm not afraid of walking alone in the countryside (my mom would call that stupid, too, and she'd let me know about her opinions), hard-working (an illusion shared by most of the world), smart because, for example, I go mushrooming and haven't died of poisoning yet (erm, I know around six species of wild mushrooms, no big deal). Nothing warms my heart as a bit of praise. Too bad that most of the praise is somewhat undeserved.
I must be having some bad time or something - I suspect that my grey matter changed into mashed potatoes. Naturally, such things happens preferably around the exams so I guess I'll make an idiot of myself. I'm somehow unable to concentrate and much worse, usually chocolate helps. Nowadays, I even don't feel like getting some, lest eating it.
Sigh.