A new week, and no comic again.

I’ve really had to take stock of my life recently and prioritize what needs to be done. I’ve been working on my portfolio website so that I can get a real job. Until I can manage to get one, Heavenward updates will be inconsistent at best. I’ll be focusing my energies on not making pizza anymore. I want a job that uses my degree. In addition, I’ve been facing a number of financial hiccups, most of which involve my car.

Last night before leaving work I sat in the drivers seat of my Explorer - which I often do- to go home from a long Monday. I turned the key to find only a click of a response. The lights were working, but the engine wasn’t starting so it couldn’t be the battery. I went ahead and called the folks at AAA to give me a hand. “Twenty minutes,” said the voice on the phone. “Okay,” I replied. Soon enough a truck rolls up and the large man inside asks me to try the starter again. My car yields the same monosyllabic response. “Wait here,” says the large man. “Okay,” I replied. He returns with a large pipe-looking things and (what I believed to be) cranking noises start to sound from under my hood. “Try it again.” “Okay.” The car sputters to life. “What was it you did there?” I inquire. “Just smacked it.”

Brilliant.

So he begins to tell me that my starter for my car is bad, and that I should get it replaced as soon as possible. He said that the next time I try to start my car it may do the same thing, and if that is the case, I’ll have to do what he did. I guess I’ll have to drive around with a big-ass lead pipe from now on.

Back to work, commissions, and the website.

They say that there is meaning in dreams; that dreams contain symbols and metaphors constructed by our subconscious in an attempt to tell us what’s truly in our hearts.

What does it mean when you dream that you kill an entire party full of fun-loving college folk in a cabin with a knife?

And then you run from that cabin in the dead of night, only to run into your ex-girlfriend.  You don’t kill her, you just make a lame excuse without slowing down.

And then you dream that your friend has the same dream.  And—though largely hairless—turns into a bear after hiding out in the woods for several days, sparing him from the spindly arm of the law.

Then, back home, you and your housemates equip yourselves with firearms in order to defend against a quartet of alien monsters, but while attempting to “get bigger guns” and acquire ammo, you find that your one absent roomie has taken all of the ammunition.  He left a note, sure, but as you read it, you just hear him laughing.   Fortunately, the aliens cannot traverse couches.

The forums are open for your interpretation.  Heavenward: proud to help you role-play a witch doctor psychiatrist!