Apologies for the lack of comic today. I've run out of filler material. Note to self: stockpile strips for use in situations like this. Normal business will resume tomorrow.
Edit: Look, I added a picture, making that first paragraph completely redundant. I could have deleted it. But I've chosen not to.
You'll forgive me if I forego my usually verbose nature (he says, picking the most pretentious words possible) just for the sake of today, I'm sure. Today has been a day of mixed feelings that I haven't finished processing myself. So I don't think I have any concrete conclusions to offer; this is just going to be one of those self-indulgent rambles.
No change there, then.
Today, I left behind the fine/chav-infested capital of the South Coast, Southampton. I know it feels like I've been saying this for a while now. But today it finally happened. I left my flat, I dropped my keys through the letterbox (picturing them landing and bouncing on the carpet inside in slow-motion with appropriately overdramatic "slam" sound effects with each impact) and said a last goodbye to the place I had once called home. It was difficult to do. I stood there with my hand in the letterbox for a good few minutes, not wanting to let go. But after mustering some mental strength, I did, and it was done. That particular chapter was closed.
I took a walk into town to burn the hours until I was supposed to be meeting some friends for lunch. I spent most of the time drinking coffee, reading Twitter and delivering an excessive amount of Follow Fridays as I realised I'm lucky to have so many friends right across the country and even the world, let alone just in that city.
It didn't make it easier to say goodbye to those few special people though.
This is where those mixed feelings come in. On the one hand, leaving sucks, there's no question of that. But on the other, there's nothing like a crisis to discover who are the important people. To be fair, I knew already. It's nice to have it confirmed. But heartbreaking to have to walk away from them, look back and know that they're sad because of something you're doing, whether or not it was your choice.
So to those few special people I said one last farewell to today, thank you for making my last day marginally more bearable. A lot more bearable, in fact. And thank you for making it hard to let go. To leave on the quiet, mourned by no-one after ten years? That would be awful. To leave knowing that people will miss you? As unpleasant as it is, it is also nice to feel appreciated and wanted.
As of now, I'm staying at my parents' house. I am not feeling happy. Fresh start or not, tonight in particular is going to feel hideously lonely.
Hopefully tomorrow will bring more positive feelings. But it is going to take some time.
I'm taking a few minutes out from cleaning and packing to write this as I will probably be too exhausted later in the evening. Things are going reasonably well; thanks for asking. Perhaps not as quickly as I'd like, and I'm terrified that I won't fit everything in the back of my car despite my genetically-enhanced Tetris skills inherited from my mother. Still, if it doesn't all fit, then something's going to have to be thrown out, isn't it? Divine justice or whatever.
Last night I went out with a bunch of friends. It was my last chance to see a lot of them as I'm leaving Southampton at the start of next week. A great deal of alcohol was imbibed, hugs were had, tears were shed.
This is an exaggeration, of course. A lot of things are made to be shared. A meal for two. Sexual intercourse. That fart that made you chuckle for a good thirty minutes because it smelled like what you imagine a can of processed vegetables that's been left open for a month stinks like.
Those of you who've been following me for a while will know that I have been known to make occasional forays into the virtual world of 
There's an old saying, isn't there, that claims if you lose the use of one of your senses, the others become much more acute. Having never been blinded, deafened or whatever the equivalent words for losing your senses of taste, smell or touch are, I can't speak for the truth of this. Although I did have a nasty cold one time that stopped me from being able to smell very much, though a good curry sorted that right out, just in time for me to be able to smell the musty flatulence caused by the not-inconsiderable amount of spices therein.
This is an even more fantastic idea! Not only will you get Fresh Air on the journey to the shops, but you'll also get Stuff once you arrive at the shops! That means once you arrive back home, you'll have Stuff to find homes for! If you want to go shopping on the pretence of doing something useful for the somewhat medieval state of your hovel, then you could always buy one or more cleaning products while you're out! Fresh Air and Stuff! Awesome.
You don't generally like talking on the phone. In fact, you talk on the phone so little that your BT phone bill is perpetually in credit, meaning that they constantly owe you money. So why not use some of that credit and phone those people that you haven't spoken to or seen for a while? I bet they have lots of awesome news to tell you! And you can joke about how untidy your house is. Plus, you never know, they might actually want to come over. And that will give you an actual reason to tidy your house. Because there's no point tidying up without a reason now, is there?
Perhaps one of the friends you phoned is having a bad time and wants to rant over a coffee. Perhaps someone who is always busy is having a rare day off and wants to see you. Perhaps you feel like getting some Fresh Air, and conveniently there's a friend you haven't seen for ages. So why not get some of that awesome Fresh Air and see your awesome friend? Yeah.
It doesn't matter what's on, because you won't really be watching it. It could be Jeremy Kyle. It could be Ben 10. It could be Last of the Summer Wine. If the last channel you left your TV on was Dave, it's probably Top Gear. Why not sit yourself down on your couch and enjoy some mindless entertainment? It doesn't matter if you don't normally watch the programme in question. It's on. And you owe it to yourself and to Culture to find out what all the fuss is about.
Your kitchen is messy, but you're hungry. What to do? What to do? Make a sandwich! Rummage through your fridge and cupboards for the most disparate luncheon products you can find, slap them all together between two pieces of bread that you don't think is mouldy, add at least one condiment or sauce, place it on a plate (or, if all your plates are dirty, in a bowl; if all your bowls are dirty, in a frying pan; if all your pans are dirty, in a bit of kitchen roll; if you have no kitchen roll, just pick the damn thing up) and then retire to your couch (where you may optionally turn on the TV and stare at it) and enjoy your creation before realising that your bizarre combination of cooked meats, chilli sauce, some unidentifiable fruits and vegetables you found in the baskets at the bottom of your fridge and mayonnaise doesn't really go. But you've made it now; so you're damn well going to eat the whole thing if only to be able to tell people about your magnificent creation.
Sometimes, whatever else is going on in your mind, it's good to sit down with a friend and talk things over. Even if you're not a big "talker" for the most part, there's bound to be at least someone out there that you can open up to. Some lucky people can open up to pretty much anyone. Though that often leads to the whole "too much information" problem I alluded to some time back, when a former music performance partner decided to announce at the dinner table to my then-housemate whom she had never met before that day that she was suffering from considerable vaginal dryness and was there anything she could do about it as it was a little concerning?