Sprung from prison

My first weekend out of French Fascist Prison (quickly renamed as 'French Camp') was uneventful. Uneventful enough that this post will have little to do with anything. At all.

Friday I had a shit night, which left me as either used or stupid (most likely both). I appreciate Tall Eric the most, who caught me coming down the stairs, took my bare bones explanation, and gave me a great hug. "You don't deserve that." It really helped.

Saturday... I wrestled with computers, generally was a bum and nothing memorable of note happened. Today was similar, with more success and an afternoon date with Alicia to commercial, tres bon.

I have no thoughts right now, I have little to say. I hope this isn't a sign of things to come. Tomorrow I should start trying to have a life.