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Clear communication is extremely important to me. I try to maintain a large working vocabulary so that I can choose the precise word I need for any given moment. If I don’t explain something clearly then that is time wasted and I can’t live like that. Being able to express myself to another person in a concise manner is possibly my most valued skill, in myself and others really, and I can’t overstate this enough.

But then some days, I can’t do it at all. On the day of this comic, not only could I not find the right words, I was actually saying the complete wrong words. I was WRITING the wrong words. I couldn’t hear or see, either. It was a mess. I was a mess. It was making me all in a tizzy. I still sometimes have these moments and I still worry. What does it mean? Am I okay?

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I’m a fairly tense person on even the calmest sorts of days. Ever since I was very small, I have fretted over so many inconsequential things. Several years ago, I began getting anxiety attacks (and one or two panic attacks, which I consider separate, worse things). Why is this? What is to blame? Could it be a complicated matter of brain chemicals malfunctioning? Or maybe it is a very simple matter. Is it the state of the world? Do I actually care that much? Is it too much coffee? No, I will never blame coffee for anything! Maybe it is just the act of living and aging and getting older and turning to dust oh god how is anyone ever able to relax?! Should I see a doctor? Probably, but I don’t have time for that! I’ll see the doctor AFTER I’M DEAD!!

Anyway, one day I was feeling pretty anxious and went to Chris for some sympathy. Ha ha, no, I was not that delusional. I only kid you. I simply happened to be speaking to him at the time, and he did that thing he does so well: make it clear that he was low-level annoyed that I was not entertaining enough because I was experiencing a rough day. BFFs.

Click the image to see me being ON EDGE up close and pixelatedly.

Who, I ask you!