This comic neatly contains its own reason for being late: I have a cold in my stupid face, which is now filled with stupid phlegm. So last night I knocked myself out with Tylenol PM and slept for ten hours, which was nice. Then today after a few hours of consciousness I took a three-hour nap, which was also nice. I had a dream that I owned an arcade game cabinet.
I'm not the only one who's sick around here. Bela has had the effrontery to get what I think is fin rot, AGAIN, and though I have killed that through the application of enough medication to turn his water the color of iced tea, he continues to have white patches on his head. My guess is that these are secondary fungal infections acquired for the purpose of making my life difficult. I am giving him both Fungus Clear in the fizzy tablets and tetracycline in powder form. This fish has better medication available to him than my uncle did when he went ashore at Normandy. YET HE HAS THE SHEER BALD-FACED TEMERITY TO REMAIN PATCHY. Of course as a fish he is always bald-faced; otherwise he'd instead be a tiny whale. Dammit, Bela, why aren't you a tiny whale? That would be awesome. And then, according to Herman Melville, you'd have no face at all.
I kind of wish I had no face right now, or at least no sinuses. My current state of self-pity is your gain, though, provided you've been waiting with bated breath to see what a stix Jeremiah would look like, because I drew one:
Many artists, like Rembrandt and Michelangelo, have drawn Jeremiah with white hair, presumably because of his long years of sorrow. That's good for me because it makes him look very different from my Jonah. I think he'd also be a good deal skinnier. And like me he has sleepless eyes, though in his case they're the result of actual sleeplessness. Almost nothing will prevent me from sleeping, as my family will attest. Jerusalem could have been destroyed while I was in it and I would have woken up only several hours later, all "What happened here?"