Killing, Mourning

Someone in this room is going to die. I don't know where he's hiding, but as soon as he starts flying around or lands against a nice white wall, that will be the end of him. I have become a remorseless mosquito killer since I moved into this apartment. I may not own a single shoe without blood on its sole (metaphorically, that is; there's usually no blood). If reincarnation's true, perhaps I'm killing someone's grandmother. Then again, if reincarnation's true, and they've been a good mosquito, I'm doing them a favor.

Two more assignments came down at work today...I actually have a lot on my plate now, but only one due date, which is nice. One case relates to what they call the "Right to Piety." Now, if you were to read "Right to Piety," what would you think it meant? I sure thought it was some sort of freedom of religion thing...possibly the right to observe strictly even if it interferes with other obligations. But no. The woman in the office started explaining to me, "It's like this statue with Mary holding the body of Jesus." "The Pietà." "Yes. It is the translation of that." Right. So apparently what they mean by "Right to Piety" is, like, the right to have an appropriate relationship with your deceased loved ones. The right to mourn and visit their grave, etc. Yes, Google Translate tells me that "pietà" translates as "piety," but good ol' dictionary.com doesn't seem to give the definition they want. I guess "pay your respects" is the most appropriate bridge between them. Still.

Update: The mosquito is dead. Don't worry. It was quick.

This is how getting assignments at work usually seems to go.

Them: Here's a description of this case. We're wondering if there's anything pertinent to this question in American law.
Me: That actually sounds completely antithetical to everything American law is about.
(Pause)
Me: But now that I think about it, there is a lot of stuff that might be relevant. But email me the question.
Me (aside): Because I have no idea if I understood what you just said.
Them: Ok!

So I'm, in some bizarre way, figuring out what European-style rights American courts have created but given American names. ("That's not personhood! That's property!") It's kind of cool.

I should be feeling great right now. I turned in the assignment I had to do for today (still no email confirmation of receipt, four-and-a-half hours later) and had a great dinner (gnocchi with beef, chanterelles, and mushrooms and a glass of red wine at the adorable Le Petit Cafe). I'm even reading a great new novel. But I'm feeling low. I have just two more days in this apartment, and I'm having a bit of an existential crisis about my time in Ljubljana. Why am I here? What did I hope to accomplish? What is the point of leaving everyone you know to spend two months in a 270,000 person city where you don't speak their language? I guess I assumed that if you do something like this you get something out of it, but I still don't know what that is or will be. We shall see.