Work provides us with free snacks. This is, I suppose, a perk. Nevermind that it's also slowly killing us.

Today on the snack table, Pixy Stix. The two-and-a-half foot mega stix. There was a time in my life where these things symbolized whimsy and lighthearted mirth to me. These days they seem like a brittle facade, like a plastic clown mask.

Hm. What a Rorschach candy can be.