Man, what a day! Seriously, I can’t even. So, I wake up in my tiny apartment on Via Roma, right? The sun’s blaring through the window like it’s trying to roast me alive. I’m an accountant, not a breakfast burrito! Anyway, I roll outta bed, throw on some clothes, and head out.
First stop, the café on Piazza della Libertà. Best cappuccino in town, no joke. I’m standing there, waiting for my fix, and this dude in front of me orders, like, a 10-ingredient coffee. I’m like, bro, it’s 8 AM, not a science experiment! Finally, I get my drink, and it’s perfect. I take a sip, and boom! Instant happiness.
But then, I step outside, and it’s chaos. Like, what’s with all the traffic on Corso Garibaldi? I swear, it’s like a scene from a bad action movie. Cars honking, people yelling, and I’m just trying to get to work. I’m dodging scooters like I’m in some kind of video game.
So, I finally make it to the office on Via Cavour, and my boss is already in a mood. He’s like, “Where are the quarterly reports?” I’m like, “Dude, chill! I just got here!” But he’s not having it. I mean, come on, it’s not like I can pull numbers outta thin air.
After a few hours of crunching numbers, I get a call from my buddy Marco. He’s like, “You won’t believe what just happened!” Turns out, he found a stray dog on Via San Francesco. This little guy is just wandering around, looking lost. So, of course, we gotta save him. I mean, who can resist a puppy, right?
I rush outta the office, and we meet up. The dog is adorable! We name him “Pasta” because, duh, we’re in Italy! We take him to the vet on Via della Repubblica, and the whole time, I’m just thinking, “What if my boss sees me?” But whatever, priorities, man!
After the vet, we decide to grab some gelato at this place on Via Vittorio Emanuele. I get pistachio, Marco goes for stracciatella. We’re sitting there, enjoying our ice cream, and I’m just laughing about the day. Like, who knew accounting could lead to dog rescues and gelato?
But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, like, monsoon-level rain. We’re sprinting down the street, trying to find shelter. I’m soaked, my gelato’s a mess, and I’m just cursing the weather. “Why, San-Nicolo, why?” I shout, and people are looking at me like I’m nuts.
Finally, we duck into a little trattoria on Via dei Mille. It’s cozy, and the smell of pasta is heavenly. We order some food, and I’m just grateful to be outta the rain. We’re laughing, eating, and I forget all about the stress of the day.
But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my boss again. “Where’s the report?” Ugh! I’m like, “Dude, I’m saving a dog right now!” But he doesn’t care. So, I tell Marco I gotta head back.
I get back to the office, and it’s still chaos. I finally finish the report, and my boss is like, “Finally!” I’m like, “Yeah, well, I saved a dog today, so…” He just stares at me.
By the end of the day, I’m exhausted. I head home, and I can’t stop thinking about Pasta. I mean, what a wild day! From cappuccinos to chaos, to rescuing a pup, and then back to work. San-Nicolo, you’re a trip!
I crash on my couch, thinking about how tomorrow can’t possibly be as crazy. But knowing my luck, it probably will be. Ah, well, bring it on!