elevator

they wheeled me around on a bed as though i was a shopping cart. it made me smirk and i hoped that no one noticed. on the way back i didn't smirk. my face was fallen and i was in a daze.

i received a letter in the mail from peter milliken thanking me for sending my passport thru his office. that really wasn't necessary mr milliken (or rather mr milliken's staff), find better things to do with your time. the salutation read "dear mrs lorimer" that may be the first time that's happened.

my dad and i drove in the car. i noticed yet another thing about him, he jumps from conversation topic to conversation topic. hm! i thought. this is yet another thing i'm similar too, except i'm self-conscious of it. it's not that i lose interest in the topic at hand i'm simply lead by my stream of consciousness, my words go as my brain directs me.

i tried not to cry, but i did a little. i knew he would feel badly and not know what to say. "oh well" i said "oh well". i couldn't think of anything better to say for several hours. "oh well" i still say and "we'll see". he bought me dinner, i think it was the only thing he could think of to comfort me, but he told me he wanted me to have something healthy to eat since i'd been fasting all day.

i been down, i been downhearted baby
ever since the day we met.