The new person next to me speaks Portuguese – the European version, not the Brazilian one – and I still find that it messes with me when I’ve been away from really hearing Russian for this long. It’s obviously not Russian, but my ears have become so used to nearly tuning out the vast majority of the huge wads of non-English I’m surrounded with, and because there is literally no Russian around me my ears prick up at the soft consonants and rounded vowels with the clipped music of Eastern Europe. The “ztrudozdee’s” and, well, hell, anyone who knows Russian or European Portuguese knows what I mean. They’re ridiculously close in sounds. Anyway, they’re a big family and it’s clear that the patient, who I haven’t seen, speaks no English, so someone is always with her and the soft, friendly Portuguese banter makes my heart hurt just the tiniest bit. It’s an odd sort of bittersweetness. It’s such a familiar sound, but just out of reach. It’s like an old friend coming to speak to you but speaking a just barely indistinguishable Pig Latin that I can’t quite understand.

Put simply, I just miss Russian.

To be clear, it’s way better than yesterday’s roommate. Just oddly sad.

I miss Russian as part of my life. It is the most beautiful language on earth. I never imagined spending this long without its music.

I never mentioned the stupid Adderall, did I? It doesn’t matter, it’s a good idea to get rid of me which I’m all for. Plus, free Adderall is always fine.

(And yes, I considered taping the beautiful sounds coming from right next to me instead of poorly describing them, but unlike yesterday, when taping somebody screaming bloody murder didn’t seem intrusive or amoral, taping a perfectly lovely family in the hospital, speaking privately, is wrong. No matter how beautiful the sounds coming from them are, and no matter how much I might want to clip a little sound and to even put some Russian alongside it from me to make my point, I won’t do it. And you wouldn’t like me if I did.)