Perhaps I can stay a little bit longer...

I called the random government agency that deals with the permessi di soggiorno today. They have a handy webpage, but it told me that my application was missing some documents and that it wasn't filled out correctly. This, of course, prompted a full-scale panic attack and many dreams about getting forcefully removed from the country, cappuccino in hand. I made my roommate talk to the woman on the phone because, even though she understood what I said in English, she refused to listen to any more questions in English. Sheez. Turns out, if I'm lacking some kind of documentation, I can just bring it to the questura when they tell me to come. At least, I think. Oh well. I won't get kicked out of the country until May 1 anyway, so we'll see if it comes to that.

Until then, I'm staying in my apartment. The landlord inexplicably moved me to the master bedroom ("It's better!). I didn't particularly want to move, since it meant leaving a desk and a bookshelf, but the king-size bed more than makes up for it. I finally had a decent night's sleep last night. The one weird thing about that room... the bed is directly in front of the armoire, which has floor-to-ceiling mirrors in the two middle doors. Those doors directly face the bed. I try not to imagine the kinky things the landpeople did when that was their bedroom.