A Day in the Life

When my husband first read this comic, he said it was “dark.” I was surprised because I certainly didn’t mean for it to be dark. This is a daily experience for me: listen to others, get very absorbed their world (no matter how depressing, gross, silent, or random), and then completely forget to take stock of my own feelings. Sadly, this is not due to some kind of saint-like selflessness. It’s more because it takes so damned long to figure out how I actually feel that I get lazy about going there. And, as you can see in the last frame, I’m weirdly cool with my laziness. Which is, I guess, a little dark. Who doesn’t want to know how they feel about their day? Maybe serial killers, definitely my cats (who plot on serial killing daily), and me.

The comfort is, this comic, in itself, is a reflection on my lack of reflectiveness, so there is hope that, maybe someday, I’ll get off my inner-ass and be able to ask myself the question “How are you doing?” And really listen, as I do for others, to my answer.