me, rewatching my favourite media for the hundredth time: it’s about the comfort. it’s about the nostalgia. it’s about lacking the necessary emotional bandwidth to take in and process new things in this year of our lord 2021
Somewhere out there is gestating a novel purporting to be a modern-day retelling of The Decameron, but instead of ten amici sheltering from the bubonic plague in an isolated Florentine villa and entertaining each other with tales of the Human Comedy, it’s a crew of millennial gig workers and their cats waiting out COVID-19 squatting a glassy, recently-abandoned AirBnB condo, describing Tinder dates gone awry. Not sure who will write it, probably Sally Rooney.
