There's nothing like finishing a particularly long paper, sitting back for what should be the last time for that evening, and realizing that I haven't yet scanned, let alone edited, a comic that's due in two hours. It's like jumping out of an airplane without a parachute or putting bouillon cubes in coffee: everything's fine until a really, REALLY unpleasant finish.
Other than that, everthing's okay. The SOLE comment last week confirmed what I'd already feared: I'VE WRITTEN A COMIC TO GOOD TO BE CRITICIZED. It's like a beginner's worst nighmare. And if you weren't able to tell, I am so a beginner.
So I figure I'll just run around with an inflated ego for a few weeks, or until someone proves me wrong, granted that the said ego doesn't rupture from the sudden stress and leak all over my subconcious.
Oh, and the poem is by Tyler Joseph Wiseman, a wonderful peice called "As I Have Walked".
EDIT AGAIN: so WCN hiccupped and deleted my old edit. Fun! Hated old scan, rescanned, blah blah blah. . .