743. I'm beat.

Ok. Hands up: Who missed me?

I missed you, too.

My brain is fried. Working is not for wussies. I should seriously consider wealth, because I am a wussy.

I hardly have any free time; I'm too tired when I get home from work (usually after 9 p.m.) to do anything besides eat, drink wine, and go to bed; and I'm not getting any younger.

I should backup: the work I do is fantastic fun and I love teaching. It's the getting to and from classes that is a life-suck. My classes are either at the language school, scattered about Brescia at different companies for which I take the bus, or in Rovalto to which I drive with the company's Fiat. (Boy, do I miss my car!) For every hour of class I teach, I spend 32.5 minutes in travel. Seriously. I just calculated it out.

I teach 24 hours a week, which means 13 hours of my time is spent either on a smelly bus or in the tin can car. I don't get paid for travel time.

I also don't get paid for the time it takes me to prepare for my classes. The first week, I averaged 1.75 hours of preparation for each 1.5 hour lesson. It's the middle of my third week of teaching: I've relaxed considerably, have gained a sense of confidence, and now only need about 30 to 40 minutes to prepare for the same 1.5 hour lesson. I've been told by the language school's experienced teachers that soon my preparation time will go down to 20 minutes for each lesson.

Still. 20 minutes for each 1.5 hour lesson equals 5 hours a week of unpaid work.

Let's add it up: 24 hours a week teaching + 13 hours a week traveling + 5 hours a week in preparation = a 42 hour work week.

Maybe I'm not a wuss after all. A person who uses her blog as a vehicle to whine about her life in Italy? Yes. I'm certainly that.

Before I leave the work topic, let's discuss pay. I get paid 13€ an hour. That's over 18 bucks an hour--What in the world is going on over there?--and 1€ more than what I was offered, the language school's standard pay for an unexperienced foreigner with only a tourist visa.

7.43€ an hour in reality, when you include the prep and travel time, or $10.60 an hour. Ouch.

I'm reminded of the moment I first got into the rental car in Dublin, Ireland back in March. I thought I was mentally prepared because Everybody tells you how driving on the other side of the road is a weird experience. However, Nobody told me about the gear shift. It's on the left and you have to use your left hand to use it. I felt silly for feeling surprise at this discovery. I mean, of course it's on the left side of the driver's seat. Where else could it possibly go?

So, yes, I'm more than a little surprised that Nobody told me about the hours of unpaid work I would do, especially since those Nobodies themselves began their lives in Italy in much the same way as me. But now that I think about it some more, there is one minor difference that illuminates a major difference: they all have/had spouses who also doubled as the main bread winners.

Something's gotta change. Good thing I've got two plans:

(1) Mid-November I'm going to ask for a serious raise. Heck, my students love me, I never turn down work when I'm asked, and well, I'm me.

(2) As soon as I move into my new apartment (the "why" as to why I'm not moved in yet is another whine I'm saving for later), I'll teach private English lessons out of the main room. No travel! Higher hourly rate!

Wish me luck. I'd rather my travel time be on my off-time, exploring other cities and countries in Europe. I also prefer to be paid for my time.

With all that said, I want to say once again, I love teaching. It's a blast. I've found my calling; I'm on stage in front of a captive audience, and they don't seem to mind!

More later when I can keep my eyes open. Promise.