I have spent the last 3 days drunk. Or recovering from being drunk. Which usually involves me waking up, drinking as much water as i can stomach, moaning about a headache, and drinking more alcohol. This morning was rough; my head was pounding, my mouth was bitter and covered in a thick, white film, and despite our recent venture to the grocery store, we had nothing easily accessible other than crumbling bread and beer. Instead we drank a bottle of chianti.
The thing about drinking red wine in order to drown a headache is that it works all too well. Wine, then a walk to buy more wine, then prosecco (the mix of red and white sparkling was too much and the bottle was re-corked and put in the refrigerator for later.), finally followed with a bottle that was more of a jug with a screw on cap (another red). This was all before it was one in the afternoon, and we had drank until four in the morning the night/day before. The apartment is constantly littered with empty bottles, or half empty bottles that are begging to be finished, and by god, we will finish them. I found cups from the bar under a chair, still filled with a fruity drink and a lemon wedge. Those, I do not aim to finish.
The jug of wine took us to a bridge on the other end of town. Under the bridge to be exact. We walked past Michelangelo's David, past statues of Da Vinci, over a canal, until we came to a graffiti covered landing staring out over the river. Anarchist slogans and symbols dotted the trash covered concrete, and the congregation of middle-aged, middle-eastern men made our adventure surprisingly more enjoyable. After the wine was gone, and so was I, the walk home was all I had to keep from vomiting. I passed out on the couch.
It's not that Firenze is all a drunken blur. I have walked cobblestone streets that are older than my home country. I have sat in a window in a piazza sketching a world renowned church. I wandered city streets alone while reminding myself over and over again that this, even if it is only for a short period of time, is my home. I have come to conclusions about myself, my life, and my future while simultaneously enjoyed the blissful ignorance of living not day by day, but hour by hour. We followed paper footsteps up a hill to discover the greatest view of one of the greatest cities on earth. Still, the inebriation that has followed me, the days and nights filled with glasses of wine and shots of whiskey seem to force themselves to the forefront. Even so, I find myself saying "Wow. I am doing this." several times a day.
And I couldn't be happier doing it.