I am sitting here mushing and kneading a ball of Silly Putty in my left hand. (Actually's it's Pacificare Behavioral Health putty; it's a promo item from work that's supposed to de-stress us, or something.) Occasionally I pull it into a rope and try to yank it hard enough for it to snap into two. Then I try to join the flat snapped-off ends together perfectly, to get it to melt back into one. Right now I have an overwhelming urge to chew on the putty. My teeth are itching for it. But I know it won't chew well, will taste terrible, and I will regret it immediately. So instead I am typing about it, here for you.

This, right now, is the story of my life.