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Ok, you know what?

I got nothin'.

Matt and I are making appetizers for a friend's family Christmas Eve thing tonight, so it didn't make sense for me to bike in to my office today- there wouldn't be enough time to get meaningful work done before biking home to cook (Is it still "cooking" if you're just baking pre-made frozen bacon-wrapped scallops and vegetable dumpling-things? But the oven does take a really long time to heat up, so that legitimately adds to the timing of everything).

Cool, no prob. I'll just "work from home".

Or will I?

No, the answer is "No, I will not". I mean, wait, no, give me some credit: I did do the Oh Joy Sex Toy new comic day social media promotion shuffle, which ain't nothing. We'll overlook how I accidentally uploaded the Instagram preview comic panels in the wrong order the first time around and only realized several hours later. It's fine, it's fine, everything's fine.

Biking to the office would eat up about an hour of travel time round-trip, but I could bike to one of the nearby cafes and get some writing work done there- and on the way I could even drop off a check to one of our cartoonists who lives in the area. Ok, cool! Cool. I like this.

With the check delivered, I locked up my bike outside the coffee shop around 1:40 pm and was just about to push open the door when I saw their Holiday Hours sign:

Christmas Eve: 9 - 2 pm

Twenty minutes.

Not exactly the leisurely Nursing a Hot Tea While I Contemplatively Find My Words in a Rambling Personal Essay kind of experience I was hoping for. Back home I went.

I have so many things I want to write about. They interrupt me when I'm working or biking around town, all these topics I wanna share. Stuff about the art shit I'm making, the people I'm meeting, the current iteration of my definition of family, community, art, self... I do not lack for self-indulgent writing matter.

But.

Here we are.

Half the topics I don't even remember now and the ones that I do, I'm too brain dead to actually say anything about them.

Don't worry, at some point I'll tell you about the family I met during the neighborhood garbage street clean-up, and how I'm going to trade an hour-long art session with their 5 and 7 year old in exchange for an hour-long conversation session with their French mother. I'm gunna tell you about repairing the intricate leather bag of a woman in her 70s who travels the world with her gay dude besties and basically is living the kind of life I hope I am in thirty years. I'll tell you about how I ruined my winter garden but it's going to be ok, I'm sure.

For now?

For the moment.

I'm just gunna plonk in some photos I've taken of my new space at Helioscope.

This is where I've been nesting the last two months, this is where I'm working on my comics, I'm shooting the shit with my studiomates like we used to back before the Pandemic did its thing, and I'm riding my bike again to get there which has been so, so good for my brain and body.

 Alright! A bit all over the place, but ey, that's part of my Scatterbrained Artist Charm, right? As ever, thanks for keeping up with my bullshit, I'm glad you're here.

 I'll have some more bullshit for you again real soon.