If he could stop, he would, because he knows this is ridiculous. It's one thing to want something to do with his hands that isn't scratching, but really? Really, now is the time for one of this obsessive little bouts to crop up? (Maybe it's stress. Maybe inordinate amounts of stress brings it on. He might have to bring it up with Whiskey.)
Day 222 - afternoon - action
"Tidying." Obviously. "Sorry."