Had a nap, slept off the sugar-crash. It was a good nap. It put the agonizing disc-golf-plus-long-commute into the “yesterday” category, where I no longer need to care about it. I headed downstairs, scanned all of this week’s artwork, while bantering with the #schlock_mercenary crowd at irc.nightstar.net. I touched up the scripts I need to draw today and tomorrow, and began pencilling.
I got interrupted a couple of times — Sandra hauled the youngest downstairs for his goodnight ritual with Daddy. Mostly it involves sitting in my lap dancing to whatever I’ve got playing. This time it was “Whisper” by Evanescence. Then the 3-year-old came down and sat on my lap for HER goodnight ritual — sitting in my lap and watching the Spider-Man 2 trailer.
Just so you know, I won’t be using the kids’ names in public journal entries. Sandra and I can choose a life of relative celebrity, but the kids aren’t old enough to make that choice yet. If I refer to them as #1, or #3, you’ll just have to piece it together and know that it only happens that way in public. At home they have real names, not numbers (unless they’ve been naughty.)
And now, back to work.