Monday, 25th October 1993

                                    

                                          
            
                          
Really in a bad mood.
                          
So he presented himself to the classroom, brutally opening the door and shocking the students with the usual clutter of his briefcase bouncing on the teacher desk; companion as faithful as mistreated that object, a constant in his relationship with others.
                          
Between us a quick look.
                          
I went out and fast I selected a coffee from the vending machine, then I got back. He was now sitting, calming down by reading the titles of the Corriere della Sera. In the classroom a surreal quiet I didn't like, I personally took charge the responsibility to dissolve it:
                          
"Your coffee Miguel."
                          
He got surprised by my gesture and thanked, but his astonishment stopped with the same speed it started:
                          
"I can't, there's the sugar."
                          
"Keep it."
                          
I gave him his trusted aspartame, bought on my behalf in the attempt to always meet his needs, even in details.
                          
He thanked me, again positively surprised.
                          
"In the meantime I'm preparing the slides for the lesson."
                          
I opened his briefcase, only person of Aware Company he allowed so much, and now addicted to his existential disorder I put together what necessary, sometimes looking up at the classroom, as crowded as terrified. I looked at several students, reaching them with a serene expression, my veiled invitation not believing so much to the myth of the bad moods of the businessman more discussed and considered of the market.
                          
The lesson began. We performed the same duet of the previous weeks; he looked at us less and less angry, meanwhile his students got passionate of him first, then to the subject.
                          
With the last slide he was again an happy man. Even his young audience.
                          
"A little at a time you are improving."
                          
"Thank you Miguel, you too."
                          
His rhino hilarity echoed in the empty hall. Then we headed for the exit, crossing the cloisters and their artistic forms. His step was hasty, to keep its speed every now and then I had to improvise a dangerous little run.
                          
"The morning started bad, but now I feel better."
                          
"It happens also to the best" I replied.
                          
"I quarrelled with Claudia."
                          
"Ahi, I hope nothing serious."
                          
"She said I have to slow down, that if I go on in this way I'll risk an heart attack."
                          
More likely he'd have caused it to me.
                          
"What do you think about it?"
                          
"She's right, but with a job like mine is not so easy."
                          
"Maybe you can try to change something."
                          
He kept open for me the university bar door, where he got in ordering the two usual coffee without first asking.
                          
"What?" he investigated darkening, leaning his elbow on the counter.
                          
"Excuse me if I dare Miguel, but according to my modest opinion as regards your agenda there's still some work to do."
                          
"Too many appointments?"
                          
"Maybe."
                          
"Not all necessary and urgent?"
                          
"Maybe."
                          
"That's me who plans them."
                          
"That's the point."