Clare McCarthy
8:20 AM
I wake up but I don’t get out of bed for thirty more minutes. Instead, I read a couple Year in Philadelphia entries and try to imagine how I would write one. I have a little headache and it’s cold in my room.
I hate how cool toned the light coming through the window is in the winter — in the summer it warms up a bit and turns peach but winter light in Philly makes everything look dirty like goodwill fluorescents.
9:10 AM
My roommate and best friend is making breakfast tacos in the kitchen, I make coffee and get a bowl of muesli. It is disgusting. We eat at the dining room table but it’s a little quiet and awkward since I am taking notes about her on my phone…
9:49 AM
I’m having a terrible conversation over text with the person I’ve been dating. Things have felt off and I know it’s because we both know I was accepted to a grad program in New York and I am thinking of going and we can’t really talk about it without delving into an emotional catastrophe that neither of us wants to deal with. I decide to bring this up over text
10 AM
I’m holding the cat on the couch
10:15 -11:45 AM
Start a new painting on the couch
11:45-1:05 PM
Phone call with aforementioned guy and I think we break up?
1:30 - 1:40 PM
Take the BSL from Oregon to walnut st. I call my sister and bellow over the sound of the train rumbling from station to station.
1:50 PM
Walk to my bank to deposit $900 cash, my checking account was down to $21.22. I always wonder if they think it’s drug money.
2:00PM
Everyone in CC has a nice long coat. I feel like everyone’s looking at me and I think it’s cause my dandruff is worse than usual
Recording my whole day for the public has me wanting to do something despicable like get a Subway sandwich and a foot-long cookie but instead I get a salad and carry it to the movie theater where I work one shift a week so I can hang out with my friend who manages there.
3:00 PM
At work:
Crossword, read the book I’ve been trying to finish since December (Vineland), drink diet soda, find and dispose of dead mouse with my manager (and friend) by following the smell of necrosis. Book airb&b in Cancun where my best friend and I are going at the end of the month to fulfill our dream of visiting the flagship location of Señor Frog’s.
8 PM.
shift over
I go to the bar we always go to after work for a beer and try to arrange my notes into a legible timeline. The bartender, Chris, tells me he checked out my website but didn’t see any recent paintings for sale — I don’t even know how he did this — my website is broken and unnavigable. I pretend like I am going to send him current work but I never actually follow through on selling paintings cause it stresses me out. They’re playing the white stripes at the bar and I’m ready to leave. Close out and Chris gives me a shot of whiskey.
9:07 PM
Just got on the MSL and it smells like cigarettes. An enormous dude in a wheelchair is watching what is clearly some kind of dubbed Asian cartoon porn out-loud. “Let’s forget about the condom!” Breathes a girlish voice from the handicap section
City hall smells like ass and when the train finally comes my car smells so much like pot and cologne I worry I’ll get contact high, I hate weed. My commute home is always an olfactory nightmare.
I was listening to d&b but I’m randomly compelled to listen to nirvana. I think about Robert Pattinson as Batman for a while.
I get home around 9:45 and clean up for a bit and wash my face and mess around on my phone.
11:00 PM
I get in bed with the cat and listen to short stories read aloud by a random guy on YouTube until I fall asleep, which is a habit I’ve formed recently. His cadence is pretty bad and he does weird voices for different characters but I like it that way, it’s more familiar.
Clare McCarthy is a painter who lives in South Philly. You can find her at home, painting, or at Gleaners Cafe, or at the movie theater. Find her on Instagram at @big_ecat
