I woke up at 12.37 today. Normally I’d feel bad for waking up at such a late hour, but not today. It’s Sunday and to be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to anything specific today. No family lunches, no friends gathering, no nothing. Just a regular, plain Sunday.
However, I did have to go out and look for a jacket. My poor brown leather jacket looks beat up after a 2-year exclusive relationship with all my autumns and early springs. And I don’t want to be exclusive anymore. So I’m looking for a black, leathery and zipped up lover to “spice” things up in the wardrobe department.
After one hour lying in bed, watching Little Britain on Netflix and having a Nutella Go! for breakfast (I need to do some serious grocery shopping) I convinced myself to get up, zip up the old brown jacket and leave.
It was a lovely day outside, the kind that only Autumn can provide. Slightly warm, with a sun that always seems about to set and the promise of a nice, chilly night. Looking for ways of not ruining the atmosphere, I decided to cross town, straight to Corso Buenos Aires in order to get away from the maddening crowds of tourists in the Vittorio Emanuele area. Nothing can ruin more an Autumn day than selfie sticks and people standing on the wrong side of the escalator.
And so, what was meant to be a wise choice, turned out to be a real trap.
Corso Buenos Aires had its main street closed for traffic. Kids riding their bikes, thrilled to be in the middle of the street, sped up next to big family groups, strolling after a long Sunday lunch. Lovers holding hands were queueing up for gelato and older couples walked along peacefully while looking for sensible shoes or the perfect pair of work jeans.
At least the stores were empty, with dressing rooms without queues and plenty of stock to find my size (which is L, in case you, reader, want to send a gift through the mail).
So what was the trap, you might ask.
Lately I’ve been battling inside, trying to suppress a couple of feelings that don’t really belong there. Hunger is one of them, and I keep telling my body that it is not normal to be hungry all the time. Loneliness is the other.
You might then imagine that walking in the middle of closed-off Corso Buenos Aires amongst group of friends out for some Sunday fun and families with their belly full of their nonna’s bolognese pasta, was not really helpful suppressing the previously mentioned feelings. Specially hunger, because I hadn’t had any lunch.
Sitting on a bench, eating my feelings away on a Grom cone filled with marron glacé gelato I couldn’t help but feel like a very lonely island lost in this sea of family, friends and lovers populating Milan’s shopping district.
It made me wish I was back home, with boring family lunches, where people fight, discuss things that’ll never change and make nice over dessert. It made me remember the long Sunday beach days with my friends, topped with barbecue and some beer. It made me reminisce about having someone’s hand to hold while pointing a potential leather jacket candidates on shopping windows.
So i just returned home, where at least there’s Netflix to keep me company. The sun was already setting and Sunday seemed finally to be getting to its end.
I returned home with 2 new shoes and a nice green shirt with white dots. Might come handy on the work trip next week. But I didn’t find the new jacket, although I’ve tried on many, but nothing seemed to fit, neither body or expectations. I guess some things really play out better in our head.
It makes me wonder if I really need another jacket, even though I feel tired of looking in the mirror and seeing myself constantly wearing the same, old, boring one.
Searching for Kim 