I'm hiding in the darkness of my room as I write this. The lawnmower man is outside, I always hide from him when he comes - he always seems to come when I'm at home but I never venture out - he thinks the house is empty and I always hear him swearing under his breath. He creeps me out. I don't appreciate people who swear. My hair is soaking wet, I can hear it dripping on the seat of my leather chair. I can smell the shampoo, mmmm berries. It's warm today, surprisingly. It's been cold the last few days but today seems simply lovely. Which can only mean the next few days will be stormy. Typical. Tomorrow is my Birthday. A swarm of paranoia has been looming over me for the past few days, I don't know why. There's just something not quite right, I can feel it. I am sad and fearful of a certain something, well someone. I hope things works itself out. I doubt it. The thought of having cake lifts my spirits. The sound of the lawnmower is fading, I hope he's packing up soon. My hot chocolate tastes weird, like the milk has gone bad but I drink it anyway. I need it. I feel like baking, and practising air guitar to some classic Creedence Clearwater Revival, but there's things to be done. And alas, yes, silence! He's gone. I can now go out and continue my day.