March 29

In the end, I was at the convention long enough; that’s not true in the sense that I didn’t get to see everyone that I’d hoped to run into, but is true in the sense of my being ready to leave when I did. Unless I’m working a show, there’s a weird limit to how long I can be there without thinking, yup, I’m done. I can’t explain it, but I was fascinated to talk to another comics journalist yesterday and have him say the essentially the same thing: that if he wasn’t working, he would only stick around for a handful of hours to say hello to friends and then bail. The bloom is off the rose, it seems.

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