To-Do List Days

Days like these I am glued to this small apartment. I write extensive to-do lists: finish grant proposal, get on with the paper, fill out taxes, drop off laundry, etc. And then I proceed to ignore each and every one of the items on the list, preferring to worry about not getting any of it done. I make deals with myself, “if you finish that response paper for the Arabic Cinema class, or at the very least get it started, then you can go see Max Ophuls ‘The Earrings of Madame De’ at the Film Forum”. Of course, I will end up opting for niether. Everything’s such a chore on days like these.

In truth I would go see the Ophuls film, if I had someone to go with. I enjoy going to the movies by myself, but it gets tiresome after a while. I think about my love, I fix her features on my mind, waging war against abstractions borne out of distance and time. I want to account for every single pore on her face, but there is no such thing as High Definition memory.

The other day I caught myself complaining to some class-mates that the problem with our class is that everyone’s too damned nice. I almost choked on my beer as I said it. Is that really what I’ve been reduced to: complaining about that standard Ivy League politeness?

A lot of things I’d like to share, the insignificant, monotonous details that nobody cares about. My love does, but a lot of these I forget before our nightly call. Maybe I need more drama in my life, maybe the lack of it is what is so difficult to write. Maybe that’s the problem, I like to see it on-screen, on the page, but I eschew it within myself.

I used to think that this ennui, which I am so intimately acquainted with, was a San Juan thing, the usual Puerto Rican morass. I now realize that it’s me. It has been me all along. One more thing for that to-do list: snap out of it.