Dab a little Hoppes #9 behind each ear and the scent will calm you.
No, no, no... I do that at the range to attract all the gun hunnies.
(Oh gun-hunnies, where are you? It doesn't seem to be working...
)
Day 2 of my enforced disarmament. The pillow was damp with tears when I awoke. Separation anxiety is eating away at my sharply honed senses, and I am finding it difficult to maintain my "code orange" state of alertness. What is the old marine maxim? Be courteous, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet? Something like that. Lacking my firearm I find myself examining the utility of sporks and fire extinguishers for defense, and cat-5 cabling for ninjastealth raids on evildoers. It is all that keeps the convulsions at bay, though a stray eyebrow twitch every few moments belies my calm demeanor.