The struggle is real.

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Back to school, back to school…

My next semester of grad school starts up again next week. Last semester kept me really busy, and the updates to the site were sporadic. I’m hoping this semester is a little more accommodating to cartoon making.

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We’ve reached that special time of the year during which I am immensely distracted by post season baseball. You’ve been forewarned.

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I quit.

Ok not really. But I do apologize for my shortened blog posts and slightly less-regular comic strips as of late. Between the full time job and the night school I’m barely keeping it together. But I’m still here. Hang in there with me.

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ESCAPE!!!!

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I see you ditching work. I know you called in “sick.” I see what’s going on here. You don’t fool me.

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I’m hitting that point where life is getting really really busy again. I need someone to cover for me…

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I had a job once. It was a good job. There were many things I liked about the job. There were many people there that I really enjoyed. But there was one thing that I did not enjoy. One thing that I abhorred entirely. One thing that continuously drove me to the very brink of insanity. I speak of course about my nemesis…my arch rival…the khaki pants.

I have one pair of khaki pants. They were purchased about 12 years ago when I went to the mall one day with my cousin. She insisted that I ought to buy some khaki pants. I balked at the thought of it, but it seemed practical to have a pair for those ultra-rare occasions here in Silicon Valley when jeans weren’t considered appropriate attire. Ha. As if such a moment ever existed here in Silicon Valley.

And so I purchased this one lone pair of khaki pants. The fact that they have lasted for 12 years should tell you exactly how often I have had to wear them.

But there was this one job. This one place that dictated that khaki pants were a must. I was not a fan of this dress code. The pants by this time had become frayed and worn. A paint stain adorned the buttocks from an Art class that I taught at one point. The pocket developed a hole and would no longer carry my over-sized wallet.

But I’d be darned if I was going to go out and by another pair of khaki pants. No sir. This pair was going to last until the very last day of the job.

On the last day of the job, my coworkers and I celebrated. We were all so happy and ecstatic. For them it was a blissful celebration of our accomplishments and the end of the job for all of us.

For me it meant no more khaki pants.

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More or less. I’ve heard it both ways.

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I’ve been having weird dreams as of late. Lots of crazy dream-like things. I think it’s because there’s a lot going on at the moment and my poor, tired, overwhelmed mind is tying to make up for all the television shows I haven’t had time to watch as of late. Like Twin Peaks, for example.

No wonder my dreams are all over the place.

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