Second Try

I think this time it's going to be a pink one...

Yesterday's poppy had been ripped to pieces almost as fast as Johnson's ridiculous waffling. The winds have subsided though, and we've had a chance at the table tennis. Somehow, and it must be the flukey winds, I'm not winning.

I have to admit to a little hint of depression, as we move into week nine. There is a world out there, I'm sure. But I'm forgetting what it looks like. I guess incarceration brings institutionalisation with it, and now I have to knuckle down and do my time...

Not a bad nick. The foods ok. The warden's a bit of a nightmare though. ;-)