In praise of Things and bad habits

A while ago, the great Emily blogged about Her Thing, a bodily Thing that she has that occasionally needs maintenance, but is so unspeakable that even her husband doesn't know what it is. Naturally, she refused to mention what specifically this Thing was, but it generated a firestorm of comments and blog posts as people hither and yon revealed their own Things. And it certainly got me thinking: do I have a Thing? People were coming out of the woodwork to unburden themselves about their Things! Sweaty palms, ghastly body odor, ugly feet, fat ankles, you name it! And then panic set in: am I weird if I don't have a Thing? And then it hit me. My Thing is that I chew my fingers. This is not chewing fingernails, mind you. No, no. It's quite different. You can find any number of people who chew their fingernails. I'm talking about fingers, specifically the skin thereon. When I'm stressed in the slightest bit, I start picking at the side of my right or left thumb with the index or middle finger of the same hand (I'd draw you a diagram, but it's just too early for that). Then, inevitably, I loosen a bit of skin and... and... and I nibble it off. [Am I seriously admitting this???] I don't ingest it, mind you. I'm not a candidate for cannibalism, much less self-cannibalism (is there such a thing?). But yeah, finger biting. It's my Thing. What's your Thing?