*Sighs like a ballon deflating* Tell me about it, Panthar-girl. These days, it really does seem like my Grandfather's old joke is true, "The hurrieder I go, the behinder I get." or to put it another way, like the one queen in "Alice Though the Looking Glass", I have to run, as fast as I possibly can, until I drop, just to stay in the same place. Or should that be "pace"? Either way, all I know is that my inbox of ideas for stories and drawings is only getting bigger by the day, and I'm not acomplishing anything. It feels like my censored, unprintable four-hour-a-day job has taken over my entire life, squeezing out everything else.

Serioulsy, Artie, is there anything in perticular that has you limp and panting, or just life in general.

Oh, its a lot of things really that culminate into just feeling tired in general. I'm trying to roll with the punches but it just gets so bloody difficult to not be brought down by things when they just keep hammering down on you, y'know? Not that my life is so horrible (hardly) but its just THINGS keep coming up with no end to the point that it feels horrible. Bah. That's life I guess.

Then it sounds like we're in the same boat. Life is wearing us to a frazzle and you and I are grumpy because for all the work we're doing, it certainly feels like we're acomplishing damned little.