Becoming a responsible adult at 65

Writing and producing a comic strip takes a certain amount of skill and self discipline.  No more bosses saying, "where are you going?"  No more phone calls claiming illness.  No "sneaking out" and hoping nobody notices.  Nope it's all up to you.  Which in this case is me.

Which takes us to tomorrow.  Tomorrow is Wednesday.  John and I have developed as rhythm. We meet on Wednesdays to develop three or four ideas ahead of our self-imposed deadlines of new comics every Tuesday and Friday.  By now there are millions of people breathlessly awaiting the new releases every Tuesday and Friday.  Okay, not millions.  Hundreds of thousands.  Fine, like a lot of people, okay?

Point is Wednesdays are important.  But some Wednesdays are Met home games during the day.  And we are both Mets fans.  I know, masochists.  There is something about a day baseball game that is delicious.  It is a throwback to yesteryear.  It is relatively uncrowded, save for a few zillion camp kids in the upper decks.  And it feels like playing hooky. Although with no boss and no school principal, who are you hiding from.

However, as much as I love baseball I am mature enough to realize that my new job comes first. So instead of going to the game we decided to work.  At the game.  But it'll be mostly work.  Except when the Mets are up to bat.  Or when deGrom is pitching.  But please, shhh. Don't tell anyone.  I don't want my boss to find out.