My 21st-century coping mechanism is to mentally compose the blog post I will write after surviving a scary and stressful experience.

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This is the story of how I got lost on a bicycle in Tuscany for a day. 

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I was already keeping a list of memorable puppy sightings in Tuscany.  To wit, here are some entries from that list:
- a cocker spaniel riding the handlebars of a bicycle, balancing himself quite impressively.
- a bichon having a swell time in the front basket of one of those four-person bike surrey things.
- a little white poodle accompanying an old lady as she sat in a very romantic spot along the bank of the Arno, at sunset no less.
- not one, but two fluffy white things in a pair of baskets hanging over a bicycle's rear wheel.

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Prior to this research trip, my Italian consisted solely of allegro vivace, subito piano, and other common music-y phrases.  (After this research trip, my Italian will have expanded to include such useful sentences as "I write for a tourist guide" and "maybe one of the waiters speaks English?")  So I get a real kick out of seeing familiar music-Italian in its original context.

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This travel-writing thing is a 24/7 gig.  I haven't taken a full day off since week two, and even when I'm lying on a bunk-bed and staring numbly at the ceiling, some part of my brain is still trying to translate that moment into copy for the hostel review, or at least a blog post.  But the sign that things are really dire came when I realized that I'm starting to have job flashbacks.

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