Ah, another Monday. I’m really starting to get used to this, to the extent that if I ever happen to interact with another human being in person again, I will probably say something really awkward to them, spend the rest of the day reimagining the ideal dialogue, and then cry myself to sleep in the face of the irreversibility of time. We will all be like our high school crush has spoken to us for the very first time, yet we managed to mess it up despite having fantasised about this moment for months (don’t worry, they weren’t worth your time).
Today, I tried to caramelise onions and epically failed. It has always been one of the things that were beyond me, like opening supermarket bags or saying a lot of words that start with the letter ‘W’ consecutively. If you have any caramelising tips, send them my way. Speaking of people’s Achilles heels, or mine at least, this feels like a good time to resurface the video of Benedict Cumberbatch not being able to say ‘penguins’.
The new trend in Italy is angry mayors, which is like angry birds, but instead of crashing the homes of pigs, they just tell the pigs to go back to their homes (so some form of divine intervention can probably crash them later).
It seems like a large part of a political leader’s job in moments like these is to state the obvious. It really is incredible how many things are not obvious to people, like not being allowed to gather together and light bonfires. I wonder if someone should also explain how toilet paper should be used, because I’m beginning to have questions. Forecast for the next days: All those people who had never been to the park before and are now forbidden from going will start complaining.
A cute way of seeing the lockdown situation is this: We’re all just teenagers again. Stuck in our bedrooms all day long, playing videogames with friends, feeling the world has turned against us, and avoiding our parents.
Lunch: Mujadara with Baccalà mantecato (bought from Venice last October, i.e. a century ago)
Song of the day: Manic Monday