too much dough

I was in the mood to bake a challah this afternoon around 4pm. Now I have a vat of tasty bread dough sitting on my desk. If I don't go to the movies soon, it will never get the chance to rise. I keep poking at it, picking away little tastes off the vaguely organ-like doughball. I especially love the smell of yeast coming from the bowl. I like my bread beery.

This reminds me of a scene from Das Kaninchen bin ich [I am the bunny rabbit], in which the protagonist receives the news that her brother is under arrest as she's kneading bread dough. Every time I see this film, I get distracted trying to guess what kind of bread she is making. I think I can tell from the consistency of the dough and to what extent it sticks to her hands.