I bought one of the Granny B’s Oatmeal Raisin Cookies in order to be able to bring it home, photograph the cookie in the package, and then weigh it on our postal scale.

Sadly, it was delicious several hours before I got it home. And I forgot where I put the wrapper.

If I continue to try to weigh one of these cookies I may gain a few pounds.

Is it too late to keep mentioning resolutions?

Oh, good. Because one of mine is to stop procrastinating.

(I kid. I don’t have procrastination problems. My clients have deadline issues.)

Where was I? Oh, yeah. Resolutions. One of the ones I’m reluctant to state publicly (in part because failure will be obvious) is my resolve to write more. The associated goal is to blog something every day this year.

Some of you are already rolling your eyes at the thought of the signal-to-noise ratio around here dropping like a plumb-line from a hot-air balloon. Relax, folks. I have lots of interesting thoughts that I never write anything about. For instance: How is it possible that 28 grams of “Granny’s Oatmeal Raisin” cookie can have 240 calories? That’s just shy of 8.6 dietary calories per gram. Most forms of sugar only have about 4 calories per gram. Butter has about 7 calories per gram. Pure lard makes it up to 8.8 calories per gram, but the cookies taste too good to be made of straight lard. Could it be that the “nutrition facts” are misprinted on the cookie package? I hope so, because otherwise one 112-gram cookie has more calories than most ENTIRE MEALS.

So… I have things to write about, but I typically don’t allow myself the luxury of just sitting and writing when there’s work to be done. Of course, in those same situations I often don’t do the work, either. Thus it is that with my resolve to “be industrious” I find myself thinking that I really ought to write more, and blogging daily is a decent measure of that.

Yes, I’ll take vacations. No, I won’t blog everything all in one place. And yes, lots of what I blog will have pictures. That way I can use fewer words.

I’ve been musing upon resolutions for a couple of weeks now, and came up with the following work-specific goals for 2007. But before I list ’em, let me reiterate that for me a goal is not the same as a resolution. A goal is a way to measure resolve, certainly, but resolve (the root of the word “resolution”) is something that transcends mere benchmarks.

I resolve to be industrious. I also resolve to be a number of other things, but for the purposes of this post that’s the resolution that matters.

If I really AM industrious certain things will happen. By setting goals around those things I am more likely to remain unshaken in my resolve. So… here they are:

1) I will grow the inked Schlock Mercenary buffer by one week per month, so that by the end of 2007 I have around 100 days of strips inked in advance of the current day. That means that on December 31st, 2007, I should have already inked a little past April Fools Day of 2008.

2) I will publish two volumes of Schlock Mercenary comics in time for the Christmas shopping season. This one’s pretty important for the old “bottom line,” since book sales account for something like 80% of my family’s income.

3) I will grow the “colored-and-uploaded” buffer in concert with the inked buffer, such that it never lags more than two weeks behind, and occasionally is equal to the inked buffer.

4) I will draw at least one non-strip picture each week, and put it into the blog. Lately my art has been stagnating, and only regular warm-up sketches and concept pieces will snap me into a new groove.

Aaand that’s about it. Lots of other things need to be done, obviously, but these are the places where I can tell I’ll be stretching myself the most.

Before I start this particular rant (which I’ve been meaning to write for a week now) let me say that I love the food at Wendy’s.

Okay.

The Wendy’s closest to my house is having real service problems. The last few times I’ve been there they’ve botched at least part of my order. I could point to the fact that my order-taker had a strong mexican accent and blame immigration, but I’ve gotten enough good service from hard-working, well-intentioned immigrants all over this country that I’m not going to play that card. I’ve also gotten enough crummy service from american-accented punk teenagers and meth-mouthed thirty-somethings that I know it’s not about race.

But back to Wendy’s: on my most recent visit I pulled in with a large order — one for the whole family, with several burgers, and one special order. I looked at the line in drive-through, and my thinking went like this: “I don’t want to be pressured by the line behind me when I’m deciding whether it’s worth it to double-check my bag.” In short, I EXPECTED them to screw up my order, especially if I placed it over the speaker.

So I went in and stood in line. While I was waiting I saw two people come in with screwed up drive-through orders. Well… score one for me making the right decision.

Then I waited… and waited… and waited. Okay, lunch rush is a busy time, but I’ve been to Wendy’s that were busier and far faster. They’re also halfway across town rather than around the corner.

Then I placed my order. Then I waited some more. Aaaand some more. And finally it’s bagged up and ready to go.

I open the bag, count, and I’m short a sandwich.

I can probably point to the exact moment in my conversation with the order-taker when things went wrong. Her english was imperfect, and while I tried to be explicit, and was careful to speak slowly, I can see in retrospect where she might have misunderstood me. The missing burger had not been paid for and was not on my reciept. Apparently “two Big Bacon Classics, plus ANOTHER Big Bacon Classic with no onions” would have been clearer as “three Big Bacon Classics. One with no onions.”

(This reminds me of one of the screw-ups from an earlier visit, when I asked for an extra patty on a Big Bacon Classic, and my burger showed up with one patty and… wait for it… a side order of mayonaisse.)

To their credit, they dealt me the extra burger quickly, and at no charge. The manager never questioned whether I was trying to sneak extra food — he just assumed the best of me, and the worst of his employees, and the final burger arrived in something like 30 seconds.

But let’s look back at the whole sequence: The service here has been so consistently bad that they’ve trained me to a) Not order at the drive-through, b) speak slowly and carefully, and c) take inventory of the contents of my bag before leaving the store. Not only do I EXPECT bad service from them, I’ve already adjusted my behavior to compensate.

Couple that with the fact that the burgers are usually assembled rather haphazardly, and it’s a wonder I go back at all.

So I guess what I’m seeing is probably symptomatic of bigger problems: 1) management over there hasn’t figured out how to put together a decent crew, and might not even care, and 2) I keep eating fast food.