Times like these get me thinking about the curative properties of a shotgun loaded with rocksalt.
Due to a slight miscalculation of common freaking sense on my part, I've pretty much boned whatever chances I had of getting hired by my top choices. Now I'll have to scrape the bottom of the barrel in order to find a job that will hold me until the end of the summer. Genius that I am.
Well, enough of my whining. Here's the comic. I will get started on next week's comic ASAP so that if something comes up, the strip will still go up.