Well, there's that clock in my room. Boy, does that sucker get loud, late at night when you're all alone. A little less deliberate, but no less maddening, is the slow tick-tock-ticckk-tocckk-ttiiicckkhh-tooocckkhhH! of the faucet-from-hell as droplets land with unexpected percussive resonance in the basin of the sink. And then there's the irritating buzz of--errrr, a skeeter? As you squash that skeeter and scratch at the one actual site of attack, suddenly it feels like you're covered with insect bites, or fleas, or some horrible skin disease, you're scratching madly at your arms and legs and belly, until at last you throw your head back and howl (again)