My wrist has been acting up. Wearing a brace and drawing shorter comics for now.

There's a band I have an upcoming commission to draw someone as, so I've been watching old nineties concerts in their entirety. Interesting.
It makes me keep doodling the wild children pitch's musical motifs.

I don't like to be theatrically miserable. I like to kvetch, but come on, how bad can my life be? This is a record of my emotions, and my emotions tend to dwell on the weighty and existential. Do I fill this comic with complaints about my wrist and my stiff neck that won't let me sleep and my inability to check for... it can wait. It can rest. We all have a bunch of stupid crap in our lives we don't tell anyone because it doesn't change and you don't want to be miserable to be around. If I share, it's because I know you're out there and I want you to know you're not alone.

And I draw my mom as a beagle with dot eyes, because she does have really tiny eyes, and they disappear when she smiles... this is the cartoon version.