I often feel guilty, in times like this. When I resort to taking a photo of the cat and, with minimum manipulation and writing, refer to the result as a ‘comic’.

But here’s the thing: I make five comics a week. It used to be seven, and now it’s five. And that’s my choice. A choice I made because of my disability, but my choice nonetheless. It’s possible I could drop that number again, to four, or three. But on good weeks, when I make five good comics, I feel really good. And on bad weeks, when I make a couple of okay comics, and result to taking photos of my cat, well… at least we have a very photogenic cat.

So… you’re welcome? I guess?

I’m going to bed.