So...

My six-year-old informed me last night that I begin all of my stories with, "So...", as in, "So, Space Knight had been flying through space for many days..." or, "So, the Awesome Eight gathered for their weekly meeting in Sky City..." or, "So, would you get in bed already...?"

So, I thought, it could be worse. Here's the thing: I've been happy lately. A little bit more productive, not a lot, but happy. I'm not used to it, and not sure what to do with the extra energy. I've been running on the basement treadmill a few mornings a week, which is cool, given my mysterious 10-pound weight gain a few weeks ago and accompanying belly. I've had great conversations and a few bits of inspired wisdom to share with colleagues, which is fun. And I've been put in charge of "Web 2.0" for our office, which will be super neato cool, as soon as I figure out what that's going to mean.

I've even got nice feedback on a bit of inspired wisdom about building online community to one of my favorite webcomic writers, which I think I'll blog here separately.

It's not like life is so perfect. I just refuse to be bothered by it.

Here I am finding nothing to write about while I'm feeling strangely happy ...

But, I've never bought into the "you need to be tortured to be an artist" thing. You're an artist if you can do art, tortured or not. Which makes me...

So.