There’s this widespread idea that life in Italy is slow, that we do everything senza fretta (unhurried), lingering over espresso in the sunshine while the rest of the world moves fast. And while I’m not a fan of stereotypes, I have to admit this one gives me the perfect excuse to dive into some great Italian words and expressions for the fine art of dawdling.
Key verbs for dawdling in Italian
We have some nice verbs for every stage of doing nothing, from full-on couch mode to strategic stalling.
Tirarla per le lunghe / Tirare per le lunghe
To drag it out / To drag something out
Literally, this means “to pull it for the long ones,” and figuratively, it’s that thing we do when we drag something out forever because we either don’t want to deal with it or can’t bring ourselves to do it. Like that person who owes us an answer but has been “about to write back” since January—la sta tirando per le lunghe.
A little grammar note: the la in tirarla per le lunghe refers to “the thing”—whatever situation is being dragged out. If you want to be more specific, you can use tirare qualcosa per le lunghe, like:
Evitiamo di tirare la riunione per le lunghe, abbiamo tutti da fare.
Let’s not drag this meeting out, we’ve all got things to do.
Cincischiare
To dawdle, to waste time in an often indecisive way
We often use this verb as a gentle scolding aimed at someone who’s loafing around without getting anything done. It’s colloquial and wonderfully expressive. The word comes from the Latin incisulare, originally referring to cutting something up clumsily.
Basta cincischiare, mettetevi al lavoro!
Stop dawdling and start working!
Italian TV host Paolo Bonolis often uses expressions like “Non cincischi!” when a contestant takes too long to answer or make a move (an example here – not exactly refined television, just focus on the verb).
Ciondolare
To lounge around, with a visual sense of swaying or idling
This verb literally means to sway from side to side, just like a bunch of keys dangling from a keychain. Figuratively, it beautifully captures the image of someone who lounges around all day without purpose. It’s the kind of verb Italian parents pull out when they’ve watched their kid wander from the couch to the fridge and back for the third time in an hour.
Non ciondolare in casa tutto il giorno, vai a fare qualcosa di utile.
Stop lounging around the house all day, go do something useful.
Gingillarsi
To fiddle around, to waste time on trivial tasks
Another great verb for dawdling in Italian is gingillarsi, which comes from gingillo (a small toy or trinket, something of no real value). So when someone si gingilla, they’re essentially fiddling around with pointless things instead of doing anything important—like sharpening every pencil in the drawer instead of opening the book and studying.
Non stare a gingillarti, dobbiamo uscire.
Stop fiddling around, we have to leave.
Bighellonare
To loaf around, to wander around aimlessly with nothing useful on the horizon.
The verb bighellonare likely comes from bigollo, an old term for a spinning top, which makes sense, since someone who bighellona essentially just spins in circles. It’s the kind of verb you might hear Italian grandmothers use when they see their grandkids have spent the entire afternoon roaming around the neighborhood instead of being productive.
I ragazzi passano il pomeriggio a bighellonare per il centro invece di studiare.
The kids spend all afternoon loafing around town instead of studying.
Cazzeggiare
To screw around
Of all the verbs on this list, cazzeggiare is probably the one you’ll hear the most. It’s technically vulgar (it comes from cazzo, the Italian word for “dick”), but it’s used so casually and so often that nobody blinks—just keep it for informal conversations with friends. It perfectly describes spending hours doing absolutely nothing useful or talking nonsense just to pass the time.
Ieri abbiamo cazzeggiato al parco tutto il pomeriggio.
Yesterday we just screwed around in the park all afternoon.
From this verb comes the noun il cazzeggio, which describes that blissful state of doing nothing and feeling zero guilt about it—again, very informal.
Temporeggiare / Tergiversare
To play for time
Temporeggiare and tergiversare both mean to delay, to buy time. While the previous verbs on this list are more about aimless dawdling, these two are deliberate, calculated stalling, like taking your time on purpose.
Temporeggiare comes from the Latin temporizare (to pass the time) and is about holding off until the right moment.
Il cliente sta temporeggiando perché spera di ricevere un’offerta più alta.
The client is playing for time because they’re hoping to receive a higher offer.
Tergiversare, on the other hand, comes from the Latin tergiversari (literally “to turn one’s back”), and it’s more about pretending the right moment doesn’t exist.
Il fornitore sta tergiversando sulla data di consegna perché sa di essere in ritardo.
The supplier keeps dodging the question about the delivery date because they know they’re behind schedule.
And what do we call someone who dawdles in Italian?
So we’ve got the verbs. But naturally we also have names for the people doing all this dawdling (all rather casual and colloquial):
Il perditempo
The time-waster
Literally, “the time-loser,” a compound of perdere (to lose) and tempo (time). It’s an invariable word, so it stays the same regardless of gender or number. If you’re job hunting in Italy, you might spot this one in classified ads with the expression no perditempo, meaning that time-wasters shouldn’t bother applying.
Non assumerei mai uno così, è un gran perditempo!
I would never hire someone like that, he’s a total time-waster!
Il perdigiorno
The layabout
From perdere (to lose) and giorno (day), literally, “the day-loser.” If a perditempo loses time, a perdigiorno loses entire days. This is another invariable word, so same form no matter gender or number.
Stefano è un perdigiorno cronico: non finisce mai nulla di ciò che inizia.
Stefano is a hopeless layabout; he never finishes what he starts.
Lo scansafatiche
The lazybones
Another compound, this time from scansare (to dodge) and fatiche (efforts), so literally, “the effort-dodger.” Also invariable.
Qui non tolleriamo gli scansafatiche, cerca di darti una mossa.
We don’t tolerate lazybones here, so get going.
Il fannullone
The slacker
From fare (to do) and nulla (nothing), this is the perfect label for someone who does nothing.
Unlike the words above, this one does change with gender and number:
Il fannullone / I fannulloni (masculine, singular/plural)
La fannullona / Le fannullone (feminine, singular/plural)
Tua cugina è sempre stata una fannullona, non le piace lavorare.
Your cousin has always been a layabout, she just doesn’t like working.
Il pelandrone
The loafer
This word has a fun origin: it comes from the Piedmontese term palanda, which refers to a long, loose housecoat — the kind of thing you’d wear if you had absolutely no intention of leaving the house or doing anything productive.
Like fannullone, this word changes with gender and number:
Il pelandrone / I pelandroni (masculine, singular/plural)
La pelandrona / Le pelandrone (feminine, singular/plural)
Quel pelandrone di Stefano sta sempre sul divano a guardare la TV.
That lazybones Stefano is always on the couch watching TV.
Sayings and phrasal verbs related to dawdling in Italian
When verbs and nouns are not enough, we also have some fun sayings and expressions about dawdling:
Stare con le mani in mano
Literally: To stay with your hands in your hand
This expression points to the image of someone just sitting there, hands folded, doing precisely nothing. Dishes piling up? Groceries to buy? Doesn’t matter. They’re there, con le mani in mano, completely unbothered. It’s the Italian equivalent of “twiddling your thumbs.”
Invece di stare con le mani in mano, aiutami a preparare la cena.
Instead of twiddling your thumbs, help me make dinner.
Battere la fiacca
Literally: To beat weariness
Despite what the literal translation suggests, this doesn’t mean fighting tiredness. It means waving the white flag and letting sluggishness win.
Se continui a battere la fiacca in palestra, non vedrai risultati.
If you keep slacking at the gym, you won’t get results.
Pettinare le bambole
Literally: To comb dolls’hair
This is a super fun, sarcastic expression for when someone is doing something completely useless while the actual work piles up. A bit like saying “We’re here to get things done, not to play salon with plastic toys!”
Siamo qui per lavorare, mica per pettinare le bambole!
We’re here to work, not to sit around doing useless stuff!
Menare il can per l’aia
Literally: To lead the dog around the farmyard.
From plastic dolls to farmyard dogs, this phrase may be a bit old-fashioned, but it’s just as vivid. It’s one of the most popular Italian sayings involving dogs, and the image says it all: someone walking a dog in circles around a farmyard, going absolutely nowhere. In other words, beating around the bush.
Non menare il can per l’aia, vai dritto al punto.
Don’t beat around the bush, get to the point.
Stare a grattarsi la pancia
Literally: To scratch one’s belly
This phrase is reserved for those who have reached a state of total, blissful dawdling: it implies being so incredibly idle that the only physical exertion for the day is maintaining a light, rhythmic scratch of the belly. And you can say the same thing but with a bit more colour by swapping the belly for, well, the family jewels (grattarsi le palle—to scratch one’s balls).
Invece di stare lì a grattarti la pancia, vieni a darci una mano!
Instead of just sitting there doing nothing, come help us!
Valentina Nicastro is a travel writer in love with her home country, Italy. Having travelled widely around the globe, she realised there was more to explore closer to home and decided to put the passport aside for a while. When she is not immersed in documenting Italy, you’ll find her donning her communication consultant hat, weaving words as a content writer and bridging linguistic divides as a translator.
