Last semester was generally miserable. Some reasons I’d rather not mention. Some reasons I’m not even sure of. Perhaps it was merely some sort of planetary alignment, making sure to make me feel terrible at every turn, though more likely it’s all something I had been bringing onto myself for quite some time. Regardless, this next semester is looking far better, despite me being roped into at least one class I’d rather not be in.

I had intended to have a comic up Friday, but me worrying about that class kept me from working on it early in the day/late the previous night. Later in the day one of my friends who’s stationed Japan who happens to be taking a break on this side of the planet decided to say hi, so fortunately not all of my distraction was based in frustration.

Classes start again on Monday, and from here I shall do my best to keep up at least two comics per week. Assuming I can manage my time properly I might even manage three. Most anyone who knows me (and especially those that live with me) will attest to the likely impossibility of this, but I am rather hopeful about things in general, something I haven’t been able to say for at least six months. There are a small variety of reasons for this, chief among them being that this will probably be my final semester here, after which I will hopefully be teaching English in Japan and getting plenty of the monies to pay off my massive debts.

In other news, it’s time for some silly pictures.

On our way to see my friend Frank (mentioned above as the guy from Japan), Chase and I found ourselves stuck just off of I95 outside of town. We didn’t cause that mess in the background, but I felt the need to pose next to his now retired vehicle. Eventually, magically, it started working again, but all hope seems to have been given up on it, and now he’ll apparently be getting a different car. For some reason he wasn’t willing to pose next to his car himself. One can only wonder about the pathos behind that.

Having an apartment has given me a fun glimpse into managing a place where one lives. Occasionally I have to do dishes (no one else will) and very rarely I’ll take out the trash (one of my room mates does that usually), but otherwise there’s very little upkeep on the place. For the first time, however, I had to replace a smoke alarm battery. There’s not much to this job, aside from enduring in terrible beeping that spews forth during the testing phase of these things, but upon removing the old battery I was presented with words of wisdom from which I could feel little else than insulted. This sort of thing really should go without saying.