It's amazing how complicated things can get in this country.  I mean, I've always known that Italy was a crazy, unpredictable country, but somehow even without the expectation of things running smoothly you always end up surprised when an "easy" thing turns into an unreasonable, unattainable  objective.  To put it bluntly, Italians are horrible organizers.  For anyone dreaming of a life in this (admittedly beautiful) country, THINK TWICE.  If you are on any kind of schedule or have any sort of deadline steer clear of Italy- head for Switzerland or Britain.  But, if you have the whole day to sway between beach, museum, cafe, or monument and you are willing to spend at least 60% of all daily conversation deciding (seriously, as if it were life or death) what you are going to eat then you may find yourself at home.


Basically today I went to go ship the order from two days ago only to hear from Poste Italiane (the Italian Post) that I could either spend twice the value of the contents of the package to get it to the USA within 72 hours OR I could pay HALF the value of the contents of the package and it would take 15 days- wait!- "more like a month" the clerk told us, "IF it gets there at all... but we can't guarantee anything."  Excellent.  What part of that deal sounds remotely profitable, efficient, or responsible?  The buzz from my first sale on Etsy from two days ago was dead.  Welcome to doing business in Italy.


I could probably dedicate an ENTIRE website only to this subject and probably have tons of people write in with their personal stories of the lack of professionalism in Italy.  From pubs to universities to tour operators to the VATICAN ITSELF- I have a story.  But, I never get too far with my ranting before I remind myself of how Italy could never be as humanly beautiful as it is without being completely unreliable.  


You see, if you are late for a job interview and you're waiting for the bus and you're waiting and you're waiting and the rain starts pouring down and you're still waiting and some greasy guy is cat-calling you while you're STILL waiting and freaking out when finally you feel like your brain is going to explode... and you decide to call the office to notify them (nervously) that you will be running late and you're terribly sorry... the secretary answers the phone, sounds disgustingly annoyed with you because you're interrupting her cigarette/espresso/text messaging and they tell you that Signor So-And-So cannot meet with you anyway because he is taking his lunch early and it will run late.  It all comes full circle.  The bus  pulls up in that moment and you are almost convinced that the only reason it HAS arrived is because you don't actually have to be somewhere for anything important- if you still had your appointment it wouldn't have shown up- are you going crazy for thinking this?  On top of that the bus driver is on the phone and driving like a maniac (not a municipal employee) and he'll brake every once in a while to interrupt his phone call to yell at someone who dared cut him off.  


It is in these wet, frustrated, mental-break-down moments you strangely enough develop an affinity for the unpredictability and care-free air that seems to lounge around in Italy.  A Swedish friend once said, "Yes, life in Italy is not as professional, organized, reliable, or well-paid as other countries, but life elsewhere is just not quite as spontaneous."  
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