Wednesdays
My Tuesday work space was taken over by a donation of groceries and vegetables for the student centre. I considered setting myself up in the public space when I discovered this, where all four laptops I had to work on would be nicely available for a snatch and grab, and me constantly distracted by everyone coming in and out. Not happening. I trolleyed the donations down to the kitchen and set myself up as usual. It was an excellent decision: All backups done and tested; last ditch recovery files uploaded to the cloud; machines upgraded, website software upgraded, video done. And two important meetings, short and to the point. I can still do this stuff.
Then I did the smart thing for my autistic soul and rode a long quiet loop home via Port Adelaide, double the normal commute, but always relaxing. Wendy can track me via the GPS app, and she walked out and met me on the bike path so that we walked the last bit together, talking about the day.
The day caught up with me while I cooked tea. Everything was laid out neatly, as it needs to be, but I cut the lemon in halves to juice it before zesting it... that's tiredness. The sauce at the end takes patience, and is quite relaxing, but I could feel my impatience wanting to hurry it and spoil it. Later in the evening I sat wrapped tight around a large cushion, aching and too tired to read.
That was yesterday. I let myself sleep in a little bit this morning, as required in this new life. It works. Got breakfast. Took the plates over to the dishwasher. What's wrong with the oven clock? It says 11.00!? It is 11.00am. That's what my autism does: everything today will be slow, late, and aching tired. The judgement call of the day will be whether I really do need an afternoon sleep or whether I can last until bed time and sleep better overnight. Anything I do today will be a bonus. Force myself to power on through and tomorrow will be a mess.
Andrea (8/26)
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