If I had a dime for every time I was screamed at by a tiny yellow box…

Blugh. This week has been a giant ball of stress, which is annoying because I much prefer my stress in an easy-to-manage cube form. I haven’t had nearly enough time to focus on the comic, though thankfully ourĀ sizable buffer means I don’t really need to. Indeed, it’s a strange feeling to know you could go away for a couple weeks and your creation would continue unabated without you.

I suspect it’s a lot like what Dr. Frankenstien must have felt like. Only with marginally lessĀ fire and pitchforks. Marginally.