A very bad weekend

Saturday - 8:15 pm

Anyway. I doubt that if I looked in the mirror again it would change anything. I would continue to be short and with a few extra pounds. But the dress I bought yesterday is really nice and even the hair are a little tidier, thanks to a trip to the Chinese hairdresser here on the corner, yesterday afternoon, almost closing.

It's not that I have who knows what expectations from this date. Indeed, I do not hope anything. But, for once, I want to have a nice evening. I just hope that Luigi, Miriam's him, is not a human oxymoron and that my him, Luigi's friend, is decent enough to talk to for a few hours.

The time of a dinner in one of the most expensive restaurants in Rome, one of those with silver cutlery and plates of the finest gold-striped porcelain and so on.

I admit that, when Miriam sent me the message, I had the very strong feeling of cancelling everything. I've never been to a place like that before. I have never seen it even from afar. And I started imagining dozens of different cutleries to use and linen tablecloths and liveried waiters pouring you expensive wine. And me while making some mess.

But did you know that there is a gourmet spoon, five different types of knives and a crumb tray? Thanks to a sudden panic attack, I did an internet search. And could there be a shellfish tongs in such a place?

But I managed to resist. I swallowed the pill, some breathing to keep my heart rate under control and I told Miriam to pick me up by 8.15pm.

A week has passed since that Saturday and, although it still seems like a dream to me, I know that somehow those hours spent in the elevator with Flavio have changed me. Not so much, okay? But I feel that there is something different.

Sunday afternoon, after the cheerful and noisy party of Matteo and his Spiderman-themed friends, I timidly opened the computer, updated my CV and sent it to about thirty publishing houses, publishing companies and newspapers around Italy. The temptation to stay in Rome was strong. Here there is my family, here there are Miriam and Rebecca. Here there is a part of me and I already know that, if I had to leave, it would be like losing an organ or an arm. But I have to do it.

I did not think I would receive answers and perhaps, deep down - but really deep down -, I didn't hope so. Instead, on Thursday morning I had a phone call from Milan which was followed by a short Skype interview that same evening. There is no official proposal yet, but we have arranged to meet in ten days for a meeting: apparently my CV was very much liked and I made a good impression at the interview as well.

It seemed so absurd to me that on Friday at work I did practically nothing and I spent the day between some obituaries (nothing interesting this week unfortunately) and various internet searches on the communication agency that contacted me and on hotels and pensions in Milan. I booked one in Sesto San Giovanni (I couldn't afford more) with the high-sounding name 'Il Bosone' with free shuttle service to the airport.

God, it's not been such an exciting week at the office. Being locked in the elevator made me a bit more popular but the air was a little sad and distrustful, like when you are waiting for some event but you don't really know what it is. You only know that it will happen. Angela, Jessica and Romina remained attached to their desks more than usual which meant still taking very long breaks from time to time but less than what happened just a week ago. Above all, they stopped looking at me with their languid and false eyes. I almost missed them. I got used to having that background hum of them while I was working.

Almost.

I didn't see much of Lu too. She has had a lot of meetings and she has had little time to blame me. In fact, now that I think about it, she has practically never scolded me. The few times she came to my desk was to ask for some documents. Without comments. Professionally. I almost had the impression that they had replaced her. Or that she had had a stroke or permanent amnesia or something.