Layers of history

Don't put too much weight on my previous thoughts about work (although I do mean to say what I've just said)..."Roma è Roma", and living here can be as if you lived in a small bottle which contains the essence of the entire South-European history...My heart feels overwhelmed everytime I walk on the streets which are (almost literally) full of history. There is Viale del Muro Torto, where they say they used to bury the prostitutes who didn't deserve to be buried under the sacred land of the Catholic Church. There are buildings who have undergone so many alterations, that you can actually see a layer coming after another one, belonging to a different age...And there you are, a new person in the middle of an old city; a transitory presence in an everlasting world.

Why work can make us ugly - Part II

During the past 2 working days I have thought about why do I feel like this about work and how can I better explain this and, to my surprise, no great answer has come up to me yet. However, this feeling has sticked to me and for the moment I can only get rid of it during lunch breaks, over a cup of coffee with some colleague.
This should not get me worried, since all the other work colleagues who are more or less in the same position as I am keep complaining about something. I could resume that it is either an organisational problem of the company, or an issue which pertains to the current occupational difficulties of young graduates.
Hmm...as I said, no great answer has come up to me yet. I still think that this is my problem (or at least in my selfish point of view, I want to see it this way because I can only focus on my issues), since all the others seem so enthusiastic about their status and they try to feel more important by adjusting their tone of voice or their "busy look". Maybe I'm just not cut out for this and I can feel happy only when I am nurturing myself with great dreams about future horizons, etc. Whenever I reach the most-wanted horizon, I feel unsatisfied and I feel the need to go further.
Today, on my way back home a driving nun gave me way to pass and smiled very warmly from the back of the car window. Her smile seemed so hearty and open, I wonder if that smile was her true nature, or simply a smile generated by her nunlikeness.

Why work can make us ugly

So, I've started my new job almost 6 weeks ago. I was so eager about it and happy to stop wasting my time and my youth on doing nothing, and now finally the change has come. I can be the protagonist of my own career, I interact with people daily and I can even go to work by foot, which is a gift from heaven in a large city like Rome. I am even lucky to have found a good job with good perspectives, and all this after only one week of job hunting.
This is not meant to be a complain, nor is it a pessimistic thought. You might think (and you are probably right) that this is a personal battle between Raluca-child and Raluca-grown-up. And in this moment, Raluca-child is definitely winning.
In my attempt to explain how I feel, I could only be satisfied by this statement: work makes us ugly. I'm not able to perfectly defend this "thesis", but I simply have the impression every day that regular schedules are fastening our growing old and that, in almost every type of work, there is a boring part which tends to form our brain according to certain patterns which are totally wrong and  harmful on the long term. So when I say ugly, I think I mean with no brightness and deprived of our youthful ideals. Luckily, I haven't got that far yet and I will hold on to my ideals, I think that even Raluca the grown-up will. But I still don't get why people get suddenly jealous in the work environment, why some act as rivals even when there is no competition at all and why we have to always write down the "bla bla", even if it's become a given fact by now. I will think of this tomorrow at work and hopefully come up with some soothing answers.

Overview

Ultima zi din 2010. Maine va fi 2011, dar zilele vor fi exact la fel, cu exceptia faptului ca trebuie sa schimbam calendarul. Bunica mea tinea sa imi dea calendarul ortodox, dar adevarul e ca nu l-am urmarit niciodata, cu atat mai putin l-as urmari acum – zilele libere in Romania nu sunt aceleasi cu zilele libere din Italia. Ca veni vorba de zile libere, de aproximativ o luna am inceput sa lucrez intr-un birou super fancy din centrul Romei, si de atunci ma tot gandesc la zile libere. Inchei 2010 cu un loc de munca asigurat pentru urmatoarele 5 luni, cea mai lunga perioada petrecuta in acelasi loc din ultimii 2 ani. Mi se pare o eternitate!

Daca ar fi sa fac bilantul din 2010, as fi tentata sa ma gandesc doar la ultima perioada, ceea ce ar fi complet discriminatoriu pentru cealalta parte a anului. In ordinea reala, am inceput 2010 in Romania, iar la scurt timp dupa am fost in Belgia, Franta, Germania, Franta, Elvetia, Franta, Italia, Romania, Portugalia, Spania, Portugalia, Romania, Portugalia, Irlanda, Portugalia, Romania, Italia, Romania, Anglia, Romania, Italia, Romania, Italia, s.a.m.d....10 tari si un numar infinit de zboruri, de fapt ar trebui sa trec aeroporturile ca un non-loc unic ce constituie un fel de o alta tara: reguli proprii, teritoriu propriu.

Intrucat nu am scris scrisoarea catre Mos Craciun, as putea sa ii scriu noului an, facand abstractie ca nu reprezinta nimic altceva decat alte 365 de zile cu acelasi potential ca si cele trecute. Mi-as dori de la 2011 poate un numar mai mic de deplasari, dar o multime de locuri noi vizitate, daca se poate si mai indepartate; multe persoane noi, dar si multe regasiri; o noua “eu”, sau regasirea a ceea ce sunt “eu”; si, nu in ultimul rand, echilibrul perfect intre echilibru si dezechilibru. Am I asking too much?

Ice stone