DTR's Magical Traveling Mind Dump - Part XII

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Do you want to see a picture of the overcast sky?

  • Sure.

    Votes: 2 66.7%
  • Not really.

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • Who cares?

    Votes: 1 33.3%

  • Total voters
    3

Doubt The Rabbit

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November 4, 2010

The only thing better than a long bus ride is a long bus ride on a rainy day. Unfortunately, that ride has ended and I am now sitting in the lobby of the fourth floor beside the elevators, listening to a symphony of clicks, claps, and clops coming from a host of suited men and skirted women walking past me. Following them is a pair of squeaky Crocs. Finally, two doctors and a rolling cart pass by. There is the ding of the elevator and the mechanical parting of the doors. All is silent. I decide to pay the cafeteria a visit. So I grab my empty coffee cup and my wallet from the round side table and press the down button. As I wait for the elevator, I stare past the thick glass window, wondering if the overcast skies are even worth including in my journal. Well, I suppose you can be the judge of that.
The cafeteria is crowded today. I look at the menu for some vegetarian options. Vegetable stuffed peppers slathered in animal fat cheese. Picked-over fries. I spot the cook who always sends my mother and I free food and gives me the good pizza on Pizza Day. He is setting out a fresh batch of romaine lettuce at the salad bar. I choose my lunch. A salad with carrots, cheese, jalepeno peppers, chickpeas, black olives, snow peas, and two hard boiled eggs is my order, along with bleu cheese salad dressing and a parfait for later. My sister is asleep by the time I get back to the room and the same hokey homeopathic "healers" that prey on the gullible minds of distraught parents are still there talking to my mom. She can handle herself just fine. I take my salad back to the lobby. More people pass by, but I do not acknowledge them anymore, except the really loud ones whom I have no choice but to notice. I think back to yesterday, when I was supposed to be at the
literary group meeting. We were going to make a podcast filled with mindless banter as a project. It was going to be fun. Sometimes I regret my sister being sick for selfish reasons. But never do I ever resent her. Never, ever, ever.
I think back to when my therapist kept asking if I did resent her. Constantly, as if she were trying to convince me that I did. I don't like that about her. She equates everyone to herself.
I go back to the room to throw out my empty bowl. They were still there. I return to the lobby with the bag from Dunkin Donuts I brought in earlier. In it was a chocolate chunk cookie. Yum. Sometimes I think I eat much more than usual when faced with crises and people that annoy me. "No honeysuckle, Sherlock" comes to mind as I open a small bag of caramel corn. I'm a snacker.
I anticipate my mother's call, beckoning me back to the room.
My stomach hurts. Perhaps I ate too much. At least it kept me from talking.
 

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