Day 10: Learning how to be an adult
Brady, Brianna and Bryson have a message for you
The weather really is being a tease these days. Today, we enjoyed highs of 21°C in Milan (outdoors) and lows of about 7°C (in my house). To make everyone feel the true passing of time, the building management seems to have switched off the central heating, which is kind of a bonus because you get to dress for different seasons during the same day.
Thanks to the successful stocking up of the previous days, and the twenty-minute reviving walk we enjoyed yesterday afternoon, we did not feel the need to leave the house today. Instead, I enjoyed some sunbathing time on our balcony, and also tried to make eye contact with the neighbour’s dog, who ignored me like the superior being he (she? Who knows these days) is while munching on some leaves.
The real reason why I could sit on our balcony, was because the chair has been finally tidied up. Everyone has ‘the chair’. It’s the piece of furniture in your room that you throw all your clothes on, the ones that are not dirty enough to go in the wash, and not clean enough to go in the wardrobe. You never know when you will actually need to sit on your bedroom chair, but when you spend 24 hours a day inside your house, there will come a time for your underused furniture to take centre stage.
I think this new life is teaching everyone how to be a real adult, which starts with going to the supermarket with a proper shopping list and ends with opening a second bottle of wine on a weekday.
Today definitely felt like a Wednesday. The struggle was real, and truth be told, after a few days you stop being curious about everyone’s houses or secretly judging their interior design choices. I thought of introducing Quarantine Bingo (credit), but I’ll save it for week 3.
In other news, I’ve stopped reading the news, because a) it’s too negative and, b) my dad sends me the bleakest of updates via email, so I’m covered. Obviously, the saddest part was that Eurovision got cancelled, though to be fair it should have been forever cancelled in 2018 when they didn’t let Foureira win, by using a dodgy and inexplicable change in the voting system which was implemented about five minutes before the results were announced. Euro 2020 has also been postponed to 2021, although Putin generously offered to host it in Russia, which is as tone-deaf as Harvey Weinstein asking to throw a #MeToo anniversary party in his hotel suite.
Video calls with friends are all the rage these days. We were actually discussing how they’re more of a challenge, because you really have to pay attention to what the other person is saying, and you can’t get distracted by your phone because you’re either using it for the call, or it just looks much ruder when you prefer one screen over another. Quarantine is giving us our social skills back.
I feel like all these years of hoarding are finally paying off. Nothing beats the luxury of showering in stolen hotel room shower gel. I haven’t done it yet, but it gives me something to look forward to. We should all make something to look forward to these days.
Speaking of which, I have decided that, as of tomorrow, I will start dressing up as a fashion influencer. I will not be sharing any photos of this activity, I just thought I’d let you know.
All the dolphins showing up in Venice remind me of my carefree days as a teenager: successfully coming back home after sneaking out to go clubbing, and having a 6am dance and snack in the kitchen while my parents are still tucked in bed.
Finally, my aspiring DJ neighbour must be reading Letters from Quarantine, because today he played not one but two (!) new songs, including Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen.
If you are reading this and your name is Brady, Brianna or Bryson (truly genius editing, well done CBS staff), don’t worry, there’s still hope.
Lunch: Today I thought I would let the Italian win, and we had pasta with portobello mushroom, and some truffle oil on top. Truffle oil is the world’s biggest placebo, but I can work with that.
Song of the day: The neighbour’s new hit, Felicita.