[He's been wired ever since he tried the yellow powder in water, and not the good kind of wired. Issac is looking for things to get angry about. He's already organized three bedrooms (just whose, he does not know), tuned all the guitars and reorganized the pantry. Currently, he's on his hands and knees in the greenhouse, pulling up weeds. At least he thinks they're weeds. It doesn't matter, so long as they make a nice ripping sound as he tears them out of the soil.]
no subject