Believe it or not this is how I planned on wrapping this up from the very beginning.

I’m not telling this story to net sympathy or anything, but I thought it was kind of funny and maybe a window into the way my mind works. So, if you ever scroll below the comic on the front page or go to my tumblr, you’d know that I was in a car crash this weekend. I took a nasty thump to the ribs, my boyfriend broke two of his leg bones, and the car was pretty much a write-off. Basically at the ER they told me it wasn’t worth doing an X-Ray because it even if it did turn up any cracks there’s not much they’d be able to do for it besides tell me to grin and bear it. So I came out of the accident a lot better for the wear (Brett’s got a cast going up to his mid-thigh and staying with his mom because he can’t get up the stairs to our apartment, I can walk, at least), but I still get this stabbing, nausea-inducing pain that shoot through my torso every time I bend my body more than it wants to, lie down, sit up from lying down, inflate my lungs more than half-capacity, sneeze, cough, or laugh. So they gave me some prescription painkillers (that I found out were vicodin some time after I took one at work). Totally took care of the pain! But it became obvious reasonably quick that vicodin makes me pretty useless at drawing. Probably the most pleasant way to get through this week would be to just come home, take a pill and go to sleep, but I’m SO CLOSE TO GETTING NORMAL COMMANDER BACK that I was like “fuck that I’m not gonna miss a week because of a stupid car crash” and abstained from taking any pain pills so I could crank this strip out.

‘Cause I guess that’s the kind of person I am.

You know the drill, I’ll colour it when I get a chance.