29

I'm in my apartment with a bad cough, waiting for Anna to get back from a night out with our friends. It's one thirty in the morning on the very last day of the last year of my twenties. I have horrible acid indigestion, I've eaten twenty calcium tablets today, I'm chewing on one right now. I missed a promised deadline for a comic by more than two weeks, and instead of writing it with all that extra time I've had these past two weeks I've more or less shut my brain off and barely left the house. I have some reason to believe that I'll have a pretty decent job soon, I have just graduated from college. This is a very big deal to me personally, even if, naturally, it seems to be not so much to everyone I've told. All these big ideas, but when there is time to do them I have no strength of will. Is this where my mind will lie, dead in the water? This is an active age, I must keep it so.