Waiting for Angiuli

I work from nine till six, with about an hour four lunch at one. Angelo, my boss in the hardware division, doesn't speak much English, but it's certainly better than my Italian. Every day there is a new phrase he wants to teach me. Yesterday was "See you later," which I no longer remember exactly how to say. Today was Come va? (How's it going?) and Va bene (Well). I've relearned SMT dicrete rework, this time without a miscroscope. My work isn't always pretty, but every board except the first works perfectly (on the first I was ridiculously rusty--I accidentally popped two pads off the PCB). I eat lunch with Lorenzo and the software crowd. There's Chiara, who's sick today and looks miserable; Lorenzo, who is almost always late to lunch because lunchtime is when Lucia calls him from Milan; and several other regulars. The woman who runs the lunch room already knows that I am la vegeteriana, and points to the menu to show me which meal to order for the next day.

Already there is a routine. It feels like I've been here for longer than two days.