Some of you are awesome. You know you’re one of them when you receive this message in your RSS reader, because that means you totally RSSed me up to the max, and RSS stands for Really Sawesome Sperson. Turns out, though, that Google is ready for action with some rock solid features, so I decided to stick the Google in my RSS.

This is the last post you’ll be receiving through your current subscription. Here’s the new RSS link for all y’all:

feeds.feedburner.com/oneminuteslow

Remember, you’re awesome.

Oh my goodness, I am so worthless. No I’m not. I just have an interesting strategy of motivating myself by insulting myself, causing me to fight back with “No, I’m better than this.” And then I waste time anyway. So, I’ve thought about my whole “late comics” situation pretty carefully, and I’m beginning to understand what’s happening – as in, what is causing me to waste time. Let me explain the system that runs my life.

I have a high-priority to-do list with tasks that I need to accomplish each day. These tasks range from business situations to hanging stuff up on the wall. Sometimes, though, I have no immediate tasks on the list, and that’s where my back-room schedule kicks in. The stuff on the schedule consists of all my hobbies and interests. When there are things I need to finish on the to-do list, I ignore the schedule because it’s not as important; it just prevents me from wasting time when I have nothing important to get done.

That’s the problem. I have a lot of space reserved on the schedule for comic drawing. But, guess what? I ignore the schedule as long as there are things on my to-do list. Do I finish everything on the list in time for comics? No. In fact, sometimes, I don’t even start the list. That’s right – it’s not that the list is too long for me to finish. It’s that I waste time instead of finish the things on the list. Meaning I don’t get to my schedule. Meaning no comics. Life sucks.

But, you can help. I want three comics a week as much as you (hopefully) do, but I just need to get slapped in the face a little. With nouns. Slap me with your nouns. In more descriptive words: Think of a noun that has as little to do with comics as possible, and send it to me. Hit me from all directions. That’s email, AIM, Twitter, Facebook, or good ol’ comments on random comics you like. I like pictures of words that are nouns even more.

The more awesome and non-comic-related the noun, the higher chance you’ll be seeing a comic in time. Doesn’t make sense? Too bad; I want nouns. Maybe your noun will tell me something about you. Oh, and maybe you’ll get a noun in return. If your noun is pure gold, I might just send you an adjective. Then you can adject it up all night long. Wait, that was a verb. Subjects predicate.

I’ve been completely absent for four weeks. I’m going to try to explain what it’s been like for me, and I swear, you’ll relate.

I’ve been trying to comb Medusa’s hair. You know what it’s like. There are a whole bunch of things you do, need to do, put off, or wish you did. Each one of these things, whether you really want to do it or aren’t exactly looking forward to it, is like a strand of hair. Each one is a snake, ready to bite your face off. And there’s a huge tangle of snake-hair.

My webcomic is one of those snake-hairs. Truthfully, my absence has been a really emotionally turbulent experience for me. I think about it every day. Every day, I swear I’ll return. I’ve even gotten as far as place a clean sheet of lined paper on the desk in front of me. But you know what? The moment just before you get your hands on that snake is the most inviting moment to walk away. And it sucks. It’s hurtful. It’s cowardly. And that’s what I’ve been, really. What if I had a thousand visitors every day? I always ask myself that. I’m emotionally shaken every time I check my site statistics to see how many people that day are disappointed by the lack of a new comic.

My giant schedule is my comb of this situation. The problem is, if I begin to fall behind in work, I also begin to drift away from my schedule. And then I have a dozen snakes in front of me that I need to untangle with my hands. This whole holidays thing has caused me to fall into that. What I need to do now is get my comb back within reach. That, along with the few people satisfied with a new comic – and the thousand imaginary ones cheering me on every day – will allow me to vanquish a foe that, some time ago, would simply turn me to stone.