A Cartoonist’s Diary A Cartoonist’s Diary

Emily Flake: Monday

Is it weird that I’m envisioning these day titles as the day titles in The Shining? Nah, it’s probably fine. At any rate: Monday.

Working from home has its advantages. None of these advantages are sartorial. Lulu Eightball is due on Monday. I ink and send her on in while wrapped in a dirty old towel. Part of me feels like I’m watching this scenario at a remove, shaking my head and wondering when it was that I decided that it was okay to work in a towel. Another part of me—a larger, sloppier part—is, like, fuck it.

Do you want to know what I had for breakfast? Well, I’ll tell you. I had plain Fage yogurt with honey, pomegranate seeds, and pepitas, a tiny “cutie” orange, and coffee. I have this or some variation of this almost every morning, so I will let you copy and paste this fact, mentally, into subsequent entries.

I tried very hard, given that I eat a lot of Fage, to make some kind of “Fage-phagy” joke, but it fell apart in my nerdy, nerdy hands.

The New Yorker batches are due on Tuesday. A consequence of this is that the tension begins a slow build on Wednesday, ratchets up as the week progresses, and explodes into a flurry of self-recrimination, fear, and frantic activity on Monday (and Tuesday, if I file my batch electronically rather than go in for the meeting). Thus, this is what’s on the slate for today.

But first I have to deviate from the usual schedule for a visit to the dentist. I know, I know, I’m totally putting on airs. But as fancy as going to the dentist might be, it is also a necessity, as rot and corruption have slipped underneath an old filling and are destroying my tooth from within. I will take a moment to tell you that I end up loving this dentist. He is kind and funny and the doctor who does the actual filling is fantastic. Even their assistant is great. Is there a way I can convince these people to be my OB/GYNs and possibly my therapists? In case you were worried, I put on clothes to go to the dentist.

Thus patched up, it is time to work on the batch. I start this from the comfort of a plastic chair in the laundromat, because my underwear situation has become untenable and also because it’s nice to be out sometimes. The last time I was here I made fast friends with a small girl who kept throwing me her stuffed giraffe. It makes me feel a little creepy that I’m hoping she might be here again. She’s not. I use the wash and dry cycles to write jokes. None of them are about laundry. Maybe one of them is about cruising for kid friends. I take my clean clothes home and keep working on the batch.

Emily Flake is an award-winning illustrator, writer, and cartoonist. Her work appears in Time, The New Yorker, The New York Times, The Globe and Mail, Forbes, The Nation, and many, many others.


One Response to Emily Flake: Monday

  1. Pingback: Less quality but less quantity « Lucky

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