A mint Cornetto, Elena Ferrante in The Gentlewoman and the accompanying book for Martin Healy’s A Moment Twice Lived,  View from my room.
In particular, I find that our precious days off are reserved for bestowing a unique sense of guilt for the things we have have not done and have yet to do. You begin the day with such good intentions: you will do your washing and cleaning, fit in some exercise, apply for that thing you’ve been putting off, spend productive time on your laptop writing and reading intelligent articles, you’ll go the cinema, catch an exhibition, socialize. In reality, you’ll be lucky to do one or two of these things, and before you know it, the day is over and you’re making a to-do list for the next one.
Today I bought and ice-cream cone and the new copy of The Gentlewoman (at long last). I spent a quiet afternoon wandering around the Crawford Art Gallery and saw Martin Healy’s really rather excellent A Moment Twice Lived. Then, Prince died at dinner time and while I can’t say I was a big fan or anything, I can’t say I wasn’t a fan either, and besides, it’s always weird and startling when these mega stars die, because it seems to make us more acutely aware of our own mortality more so than when someone we kind of know in real life does.