How do I become a faster writer? I want to update daily but I simply do not have that kind of time. What is the secret? Tell me. Tell me. TELL ME. I'm not even going to attempt to be thorough - I am struggling to recollect as it is. I am even nodding off a little because I have had dinner (bucatini with mackarel and cherry tomatoes), had maybe one sweet too many, I am sitting comfortably and the heating is on.
A colleague of my wife (Ma.) left the country for good; went back to Italy to her family. She has lived here for 4 consecutive years (I think) and she has eventually grown tired of it - it's understandable. But 4 years are 4 years, and so far they are about a sixth of her life, so it's going to hurt like a bitch. I know for a fact that it did, because she invited us to the local brewery on the 13th, a few days before her departure, and at the end she broke into uncontrollable tears. She hugged us one by one whilst crying; when it was my turn all I could tell her was that she felt like a bag of bones. When I left Edinburgh at a comparable age and after a comparable amount of time, I was in mourning for 2 years. Not a figure of speech - I have been to funerals, I know what they feel like. But she is still so young it eventually won't matter. During the night, she passed around a little notebook for people to leave her a small drawing as a memento. Everyone was making a doodle and passing it forward, but that seemed almost offensively too little to me; so I filled out about a dozen pages with some crappy drawings through the night. Including at least one detailed drawing of a cock and some boobs, as is tradition since middle school. I love that humans have always been crude. I used to be alright at drawing, now I just draw very fast so it looks like I'm just being careless. I made my wife drink too much and nursed her to sleep that night. Sorry, love.
The weather is terrible again - there have been not one but two storms. With personal names and everything. A town nearby was badly flooded and the media are acting surprised; as if it isn't going to happen again next year. There are no plans for badly needed hydrogeology works (we're talking stuff like digging canals, not rocket science), so it will just keep happening. Do not buy a house in a flood zone (I'm kidding, there are no houses to buy anyway).
During a little hiatus in the middle of the second of these storms, another person fell into the river just below our window. I had noticed some firefighter trucks earlier and then forgot about them. I was forcibly reminded around 1am by the rotor of the Search & Rescue helicopter hovering above our heads. It was right above us, maybe not even 40 meters up in the air; extremely loud, it sounded like someone was mowing the lawn inside our living room. It went up and down the river shining its beam, whereas a couple of crews in inflatable boats were scouring the river sides at the same time. I had a look at the local subreddit and on Twitter and realised that half the town had been woken up by the helicopter and was asking for updates. At some point the search was called off (the weather worsened). They found her body by the docks two days later. Fucking horrible stuff.
My wife is no longer on sick leave and I don't like it one bit. Her leave has been the best time of the year for me, because she was always around me and relaxed - she seemed like her younger self. It made me happy like nothing else can. Now that she's back she's already stressed out, she looks hollowed out when she comes home from work and it kills me. I have to ponder on some major life decisions now, because I can't see her suffer much longer.
I am really struggling to recall more that has happened since the last entry - that's how mundane my life is. Let's see; let me try to trace my way backward. Yesterday I attempted an elaborate meal for dinner: I made a millefeuille of mackarel and fennel, topped with a soy-cured yolk, with a side of beetroot leaves and stalks and a pair of cacio & pepe fritters. It was good, but the mackarel could have been fresher. I need to be more careful at the fishmonger. On sunday we made baked stuffed pasta shells - I wrote down the recipe here because my wife liked it a lot. On Saturday we went for a walk because it wasn't raining (that's what we are reduced to this year), and we made pizza in the evening. On Friday I had a job interview in the morning. I think it went okay, I answered their questions with answers that were at least topical. It was a bit disheartening however to hear the panelists recite these trite ready-made questions: "give me an example of a time when you [etc etc]"; I had to make a conscious effort not to roll my eyes. I have not heard back from them yet, which is probably a bad sign. In the evening we made a video call with our friend Mi., who wanted to repeat the culinary challenge of last time. We made a simple pasta dish - fennel, olives, anchovies and orange. Quite aromatic; needs less orange next time. He has of course been through a series of funny misfortunes since the last time we spoke; in jewish humour he would be the schlimazel character. He was also sporting an unexpected pornstache, and while we did give him shit for it we did not have the heart to tell him to shave it off. Maybe he'll get there by himself. Before Friday I remember some dishes being ruined by a particularly bland pumpkin I bought from the market. I need to start tasting them before I use them for cooking.
I have started rewatching Seinfeld when I'm washing the dishes and it's as funny as the first time. I have not yet burned it into my retinas like I have Friends, so it still feels fresh. It's a funny game to look for Seinfeldesque situations in your own life - it makes it a little more bearable, I find. For instance, my wife went to a two stories shop last Saturday and the downward escalator was closed off, so people were queueing for the elevator and complaining (someone referred to the inconvenience as a "disaster", imagine that). The elevator came and people started streaming in, including her, but she stopped when she realised they were already crammed and decided to wait for the next one. Everyone in the queue gave her a nasty look because she didn't squeeze in. She pressed the button to call the elevator again, and a woman from behind her in the queue came over and pressed the button again in front of her. My wife stared her down like Elaine would, but said nothing. Then the elevator came again and they went in. My wife pressed the ground button, and the same woman... pressed the ground button again. My wife did not like that. "She pressed it again, Jerry, can you believe that?" "Let me see if I understand: you pressed the button - she saw you" "She saw me, Jerry" "...then she came over - and pressed the SAME button in front of you? and this happened twice?" "Twice, Jerry. Twice!" "Oh boy. I wouldn't have liked to be in that elevator." [Kramer bursts in; turns out he's the reason the escalator was closed off]
I seem to have lost about 2 kg in the last month, and I don't know whether I should be happy or worried. On the one hand I have tried to reduce portions a little and maxx my veggies; on the other, it's not like I have had much success in my attempts at containing myself, and moreover come on, 2 kg? It's a bit much. So I'm thinking it's cancer. It's the only rational explanation. (I am joking)(but am I?)