Dan-dan-dandy San Diego

Comic-Con is over. Phew. San Diego was lovely. The weather was beautiful. I used mass transit for the first time in a city I lived in for years and years. And I never once complained about my feet hurting, even though I wore impractical-but-pretty footwear the whole time. It's a policy with me. Unless I'm actually bleeding, I will accept the consequences of the shoes I wear without drawing attention to my sacrifice. I'm not in it for the pity, after all. As far as shoes are concerned, I'm fairly invincible.

But I am bent and bedraggled and all that comes of no sleep, no food, and no relief in sight. I met a deadline today. It's only the beginning. And I have a funeral to attend this week. And that promise dulls all the colors.

I had wanted to complete my entry for an essay contest, but I missed the deadline alas. This is no way to become a respected writer.

I spent a shameful amount of money on pens at the convention. Maybe I will do some art.