I have to babysit in exactly 34 minutes, although probably more time since it's v-ron we're talking about, and my ears are ringing. Yes, I can still hear, the song over my speakers and the fan and my fingers pressing keys but the metallic tone in th background is starting to become distracting. I hate it how people say that they can hear their thoughts buzzing, because they can't. Not really. Maybe you hear your own voice silently forming words and completing thoughts, but not the droning that "buzzing" implies. I have a new boss named Nicole who I am disinclined to like. All around me people are remarking to each other how nice she is, how great and wonderful and how things are finally going to get done right, and I'm wondering what the hell is wrong with me. Maybe it's misplaced loyalty to Pamela. Maybe it's something that I can't put a name to because I haven't recognized it yet. And I think yesterday was the best day I've had in weeks. So thank you. The silence is unnerving after days of noise, of people in my ear telling me how to live my life; the same as this cold after months of heat. I'm thinking about how the last time I babysat I was making toasts, to you to me to love and life, toasts I really don't remember the wording of. Two weeks ago I wanted to get smashed. Today I'm fine staying sober and cold. Except that all the hair on my arms is standing up, and about thirteen and a half seconds ago I shivered. One more reason I don't ever want summer to end. I wish this had a point. A definite one.