So it seems as though watching the whole second season of “Orange is the New Black” has wiped my brain clean of anything else. It’s as though it burrowed in, pushing aside all unnecessary information, and by “unnecessary,” I mean anything unrelated to the inmates of Litchfield.

Ooops.

You wouldn’t think a TV show could do that, but it has. Maybe it needs a warning label. “Warning: Consume in reasonable quantities. Binging may result in loss of connection with reality, an overdeveloped sympathy for the incarcerated, and a strange desire to eat off of a plastic tray.”

Who am I kidding? I’d do it again. In fact, I will do it again next year when we get season three.

So you’ll have to bear with me as I return to reality and try to get some synapses firing on some writing of my own. Let’s hope they’re starting to spark, much like a home-made prison lighter.

Oh dear.

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