I always knew April and May of this year were going to be rough. I'm a socially anxious person, and this spring was going to be packed with seeing people.
It was to kick off with the Oregon Book Awards where Incredible Doom Vol. 2 was nominated. Jesse’s dad and stepmom were coming to town for the awards ceremony which happened to coincide with his dad’s 80th birthday.
Nine days later, I would be traveling to the coast to spend several days with my friends on our annual trip that we've been doing for over fifteen years.
Three days after that, I was scheduled to head to Alaska for the Alaska Robotics Comics Camp and Convention. During that trip, I'd be doing my first-ever presentation in front of a school classroom.
Then, three days after I home I was set to hold a table at the Beaverton Library Free Comic Book Day, followed by two friends set to fly into town to stay with us, during which time I'd leave to head to the Vancouver Comics Art Festival.
A couple of weeks ago I was looking over my calendar, psycing myself up for this gauntlet of fun, but very stressful things, making plans for how to get a running start on all this, when we noticed our cat Grandpa was eating less than normal.
A few days and several vet visits later, he was gone, and the four of us in our house were three.
It's heartbreaking. Devastating.
The crying leaves my whole body sore.
"Fuck cancer" is right.
The Oregon Book Awards just happened. We didn’t win, but it was nice to see all those who came to support us.
Now I’m scrambling to do taxes, ship books, make Patreon rewards, and write comics; preparing for this tidal wave of events as it begins to hit.
I feel like I tripped at the top of a steep hill. That I'm tumbling down and whatever comes next gravity.
It’s good though; I remind myself of that. I get to see friends and loved ones.
But I wish I didn't have to do it while feeling like I'm falling. Triggered by random memories that choke me up. And knew what to do with the litter box.
