Got up, went to the tartan office for OH YEAH, THE LAST COMICS EDITORING EVER for me, thank goodness. Man, it's just irrational how much I got tired of doing that job. It really didn't take that much time out of my life (certainly not compared to the real editorial positions, who all told took much more shit than me with respect to late material and so forth, and put in a lot more time) and it wasn't really that annoying, but I just got so tired of the particular issues involved. Cajoling people into actually producing material, waiting for late stuff, dealing with complaints when things were unfunny or offensive or just offensively unfunny or nonsensical or the author was freaking people out around the office for whatever reason, or layout didn't work, etc. Being in charge of things suck unless you really like doing it. Which I guess is the lesson - simply doing the comics page, and being able to decide what went into it and fudging bits of creativity into it was sort of cool, it was kind of fun in a way, just not so compellingly so to make it worth doing in the end.
And then... lincoln3 kidnapped me to CostCo. We got many useful groceries.