Helen got sprung from the joint today. I saw her shortly after her return to 39th Street. To abbreviate the old Army descriptive: situation normal.

And what is it about the shops at Grand Central that when you walk through there past 9:30 p.m. you can't find one black-and-white cookie to bring home to your kids? You'd think they'd keep more of those in stock...

Right now I need some sleep -- but my rib-cage feels like it's being crushed. The Vicodin is nice for making everything numb... everything except that tattered nerve. Taking the pill seems to just accentuate the pain. And I need to turn up the contrast in my life.