Highway to Hell is marching out of the Concubine's speaker as the Rock Show - no longer Tommy Vance - does it work. I write a blog entry, as I'm online and want to. Idly, y'know.

This week, I've rediscovered the pure and simple joy of learning shit. I'd virtually forgot the part of me that lives and thrives in the lecturing/tutoring mind-place in the years that have gone by, and to find myself in a First-Aid class and coming back to terms with the joys of Gylcogen levels and such is a rare and precious joy. The fact that I can deal with a sucking-chest wound like a bastard's another side-bonus.

On the way back to Jane's tonight, I see a car-crash. I never see car crashes. I itch to wrap up wounds, and the world are throwing it in my way.

(Everyone was fine in the crash, by the way. Just to put the mind of the more sensitive souls in the audience at rest).

Clearly, I'm lying on the bandage bravado front. The fact these four days of training make me, essentially, the first point of contact when Stuff Goes Wrong is a deeply worrying prospect. I shrug responsibility at the best of times, and as responsibility goes, life and death is a serious one.

Anyway - comics "stuff".

1) Nextcomics updated with HIT 3
2) Reached page 56 of the thing which I'm doing. That's just over half-way. It's the 17th today. Over 20,000 words of comic script done. That's not bad at all.