After hours and hours of keyword research, searching through encyclopedias both in print and online, sorting through surveys and charts and charts and polls and polls of marketing data, I finally threw my phone against the wall.  Then I threw my stapler against the wall and immediately regretted it.  I really liked that stapler.  It was gift from my uncle on my last birthday and, at first, I was upset because, well, I had gotten a stapler as a gift.  But, over time, I had grown to love that stapler.  It was always reliable and stapled so effectively.  Now because I had grown so utterly frustrated at work I had probably broken it and no other stapler could ever replace it.  I know I get frustrated at work and need to join an after hours fight club or something and I shouldn’t have taken my postmodern rage out at an innocent stapler.  It just didn’t deserve that.  What if it had a family of little staplers and now they’re never going to see their father again.  Is there some type of stapler cemetery I can take it to and then bury it at?  I hope the stapler’s ghost doesn’t haunt me and follow me around, making me staple sheets of paper poorly from now on.