Stupid, dumb luck. Sometime, the world works in weird ways. Didn't know I needed this, but apparently I did. 

Was in a home, searching (as ever) for the things that sustain life, in a world perpetually bent on killing you. Found a somehow-nearly-untouched kids' room, and there was a plastic model, started, but unfinished, on the kid's desk. Glue was still viable.

So, here I am, sitting in the kid's red desk chair, gluing spark plug wires. Who knew that building a '56 Bel Air would make me feel so normal, for a few hours? I think I'll leave it on the kid's desk. 

Too bad, all the paint is dried out.