To-Do

I need to go grocery shopping.

My fridge door was cracked open when I got back from Toronto. I suppose I left it that way. I have a feeling this set me back a week. I hoped the damage wasn’t too bad. I found the thermometer I use for film development, poured water from my Brita into a cup and dipped the thermometer in the water. I learned in food handler’s training that a refrigerator should be between 33 and 40º. Mine was 53º. A scan back in the 53º fridge revealed the block of mozzarella cheese had grown a mold that was not there a few days before. I just closed the door and took a nap for the day. And when I got dizzy enough, I had canned soup. I have yet to throw away the 22 eggs or pour out the carton of oat milk or throw out that cheese. Partially because there is a wasp aggressively marking its territory on the back stairs to my apartment.

I will probably finish Anil’s Ghost tomorrow, but I’ve been thinking about atomic bombs. So I think I’ll read Slaughterhouse 5 next. It was my favorite book in high school, and everything has reminded me of it lately. First I was gonna read Hiroshima but remembered the similar book about unnecessary bombings carried out by the US in WWII. I want to read Cat’s Cradle again as well because there’s this Atlantic article about Kurt Vonnegut in this month’s issue, but I already told Sean the next book I’d read is Homegoing. After those, I have three novels from the Chicago Public Library, who at this point probably doesn’t expect them back. I also owe them two guides on painting religious icons. I would like to return to good standing with the institution so I can get a museum pass: they won’t give you one of those with three digits of outstanding lost item fees. I’ll read Original Sins after Ghost in the Schoolyard— one of the library books. I will then read every book on my shelf before I get any new ones.

I have photos to edit. That is why I have my computer with me. After I get those done, I have two photoshoots to plan. One about tea and one about the news. I won’t give more detail. Then I’ll write all my half-written essays. I have one about coffee shops, one about my first trip to Philadelphia, one about my friends’ lore, and my most psychotic of all, exploring the link between 9/11, Brooklynn fashion and Lana Del Rey. Once I finish writing those, I’ll paint the icon I checked those books out for. I will also spare details until I get this done.

My phone has been in French for about 2 years. I have become skilled at evading it. This popup is asking about cookies. Tout refuser. In Germany last summer, everyone was speaking German. I suppose this is what they are supposed to do. But prior to that, I had never been outside the borders of an anglophone country. It helps that nearly everyone can pull English out their back pockets after you give them a blank stare or pronounce “hello” without the long rounded ā. Either way, I learned to take in only the information I needed. “Nächste halt: Neukölln.” This is where I get off. This is what it feels like navigating my phone. Tout refuser. When next I am in Nigeria, I will solidify my Yoruba. That shouldn’t take too long. I’d start with Igbo, but frankly, my family rarely speaks it since they’re all in Lagos. I’ll get to Igbo at some point though. A few phrases in Hausa too but before that I’ll probably do Arabic. Once I have English, French, and Arabic, I can speak to nearly anyone in Africa. Sorry Angola. Now, I learned French so I can travel West Africa, but the countries I have interest in visiting have recently overthrown their French-aligned governments and embraced indigenous culture. So, if I show up to Ouagadougou with an American passport, speaking French in the accent I learned from watching Parisian TikTokers, they may take me for a CIA agent. I am not a CIA agent so I gotta learn some Fula too. Hopefully the Hausa makes that easier. At some point, I will take a few lessons in Spanish because it is embarrassing to have lived in the US for this long with this little grasp of the language. And I like Bad Bunny.

I have asked many people for their mailing address without mailing them anything, but I know exactly what I want to mail each of them. Some of it requires arts and crafting.

I missed a few of my friends’ parties and shows in the last few weeks. Texts too. I need to explain myself.

I need to call my doctor. I need to call my grandpa.

I need to listen to the album Ahlaam sent me.

But right now, I need to sleep. I need to catch up on it. I suppose I never will.