Stabby...

I'm so tired. I feel like a whiny bastard, and I can see myself coming up with how things are better back home or shit like that.

Some people have asked me why I didn't go back, then? Well, the inertia works both ways around here, you see? I'd be packing up, but just how I had so much difficulty finding an apartment, I have this insane contract where I'd have to lick the pavement from here to Bordeaux in order to get out of it.

But I have to admit, some mornings, I'm bloody tempted to just tell all of this to fuck off, take my plane ticket and head back.

In the meantime, I'll be over there, writing the plan for the plan that'll allow us to plan. But I wouldn't expect much result or effect...