The rest of today

I've just been back on the family history again, so I must be in that sort of mood. Of course I'm collecting completely useless data, I know that, but I want to collect it anyway. It keeps the mind occupied.
I'm going to have a quiet night indoors, with or without a film or a book. I don't know yet.

Just now

I thought I'd go for a walk I the lovely weather and a fag, so I took myself along the high street. After noseying round a charity shop I went into the hamburger joint for some of their very salty, skinny chips. The place was packed with some of the most slovenly individuals it's possible to imagine. Their behavior was just as grotty as their appearance. The idiot in front of me was horrible to the girl on the till because she hadn't any large change. He demanded to see the manager and then picked an argument with her. I was dismayed when the manager interrupted the girl, who was still busy serving, and asked her why she hadn't offered to go to the bank for the 'gentleman'. Gentleman indeed? My arse. I'm never going in there again, if that's how they treat their staff.

The weather

It was already starting to feel warm at six this morning, and has got warmer as the day rolls on. It's perfect weather for me with blue shies and a cool breeze. I love the breeze. That's one of the nice things about living on the coast. I've heard that the temperatures are set to soar over the next few days. Gulp. It's much better than in London, where it stays hot both day and night.

Moods

I couldn't settle down yesterday evening. I suppose I was waiting for upstairs to start up, so couldn't relax properly. While thinking about my Sunday night, I started to feel really sad too. I don't know why, but I've been bombarded with miserable thoughts ever since. My sleep was miserable too, and I woke up a few times before getting up at six this morning. Is my brain in self-destruct mode again, again?

Sunday night

I haven't stopped thinking about Sunday night. It was such a lovely surprise to see my people there, and it made my weekend. I don't at all enjoy my Sunday night booking, but it was nice to know that I wasn't all alone there.

A tranquil location

At ten to six yesterday evening the neighbours treated me to extremely loud rap and reggae (these should be renamed crap and vomit), together with all the concomitant shrieking and shouting. I set my camera running in video mode, but could hardly hear it in the recording. If that happens again I'll go to the window and record it. Mercifully the appalling din only went on for about ten minutes, when they switched it off and shut their window. I think they were just taking the piss.

The rest of yesterday

I had a brainwave when I got to the supermarket, and bought one of the bacon hocks that I enjoyed last time I had it. It went down a treat with the lovely local vegetables I'd bought at the village fete last Saturday. I didn't fancy watching anything so I read what Walford had to say about the Old Kent Road, and spent the rest of the evening looking at the plants on the balcony. I turned it at ten, exhausted after waking up at five that morning.

In conversation...

I forgot to mention earlier that the lady I got talking to last night said that she was a not-too-distant relation of Stanley Holloway. Stanley Holloway is one of my favourite film actors, and he is in some of my favourite films. The lady never knew him, as he had died before she was born. We had one disagreement though; she said he was from Croydon, and I said he was from Essex. She didn't look entirely convinced. I was right, you know. I've just checked it online.

Later on

I hope I'm not raising my hopes too high, but I'm expecting it to be quiet when I get home. I think I'll treat myself to a rest. Before that I'll get a couple of groceries and get the keyboard shifted. Then I'll lie down for a bit, cook, and have a quiet night in, with or without films. Sorted.

Outside the pub

Last night an all-female couple joined our group. They were lovely and we all got on with them nicely. One of them and I got talking about this 'gay pride' caper. She held the same low opinion of it as I do. It is no longer necessary to make a noise, now that we have equality with every other citizen of this country. Why scream out about being 'different' and ghettoise oneself? Why label oneself? My idea of equality is that we are all accepted for who we are. Full stop. 'Difference' to me implies inequality. What's it all about?

Just now

I went outside to check the weather, er, I mean to have a fag. I enjoy my smokes, but they are even more enjoyable when you haven't had one for a couple of hours. The council have recently deployed a new 'police force' who hand out on-the-spot fines of £80 to anyone dropping a dog-end. I suppose I can see their point, and of course the council is strapped for cash, but why couldn't they instead do something about the much greater menace of dog shit?

Today

I'm tired today after the weekend's activities, but nothing like as tired as I've been for the past few Mondays. The wrists and forearms feel a bit tight, but that's only my age catching up with me. I'll need to go and collect my keyboard from the pub this afternoon, but I'll do that when I'm good and ready. I don't feel like rushing anything today.

The weather

The weather has been beautiful all weekend, and continues the same today. Saturday was uncomfortably hot at one point, but I didn't mind. It was such a treat to sit at the balcony eating a cornet. I very seldom eat ice cream, but it was exactly what was required.
The local people, of course, are grumbling about the weather being too hot. Only a week ago they complained about it being too cold. Ain't it tragic.

Another musical interlude

I went to the boozer half an hour before I was due to play, so I could have a quick half pint before I kicked off. I had such a lovely surprise when I got there, as two of my close people were sat outside having a wail of a time with two of my favourite social friends. These friends only spend part of their time in this town, and they come and see me whenever they are down here.
I really didn't fancy playing last night, and didn't mind that the customers weren't taking any notice of me. I belted out the pub songs for about an hour, then had a break chatting to my friends. Then I murdered some Mozart for a bit and then stopped. I felt as if my brain was about to give way, so decided that I'd finished for the night. I spent the rest of the evening sitting outside with my group, and having a bloody good laugh and a pint or two. In the meanwhile the landlord had materialized, but I couldn't give a stuff. I'd played for about an hour and three quarters. By my reckoning he'd already had more than had his money's worth.

A musical interlude

I had a lovely Sunday lunchtime at the historic building. I had more than the usual number of people sitting down to listen. One man sat in the next room for about twenty minutes and listened. I had lots of nice things said to me, and similar comments have begun to find their way into the visitors' book. It all makes me feel valued and appreciated.

The neighbours

I've had a peaceful weekend with no more nasty outbursts or nasty behavior from the people upstairs. Saturday evening was creepy. I could hear that the people were in, but they were spookily quiet and that unnerved me. I spent the whole time waiting for another virtuoso performance but nothing happened. Sunday was quiet too.

Tonight

It's going to be another quiet night in. I say 'quiet', but I can't be sure it will be quiet. It depends on upstairs. Anyway I shall be indoors, and am planning one of my veggie curries for dinner. It's very hot today and I don't fancy much else.

Earlier on

After I finished playing I met up with my friend from uni, and we went to a village fete a few miles from where I live. I picked up a cauliflower, a cabbage and a kilo of potatoes, all of which were harvested very recently, for only 50p apiece. Then I got a flat parsley and an aubergine plant, which were also 50p each. I love village fetes, and it's such a pity there aren't more of them.

Another musical interlude

I really did enjoy playing at lunchtime. I had a few really appreciative visitors come and talk to me, and some sitting down to listen. One group of people read my blurb and asked me to play some Spanish stuff, so I knocked out a showy sonata by Soler. They were interested in the background, so I had great fun talking through the historical, social and cultural settings, and describing the sorts of keyboard instruments that were in vogue. What fun!

Now

I'm trying to pull myself together so I'll be able to play in a very short while. The worst thing about how I am is that thoughts and images tend to stay with you, more or less permanently in my case. I feel exactly the same as I did last night only more tired and angrier. I'm really angry with my upstairs neighbours for being so aggressive and antisocial. I don't like being angry. It's not good for me. It's another case of me doing the psychological self-harm bit. I'm beating myself up because I'm not coping very well with those people. I'll have to do the same as usual and wait for it all to pass eventually.

Viewing

Last night I started watching Train of Events (1949), an Ealing Studios film featuring some of my favourite actors: Jack Warner, Gladys Henson, Susan Shaw, Peter Finch, Olga Lindo, Joan Dowling and many others. It's a lovely set of separate stories, all tied together by the train crash that the characters are all in. It's a shame that my dvd player is getting dodderier by the minute, and wouldn't play the end of the film. It'll have to go.

Numbers

I've been thinking about yesterdays list of hypothetically 'gay' composers and have come up with some lists of my own:

Painters with red hair

Architects who were deaf in one ear

Chefs who spoke Welsh as a second language

Sculptors who knitted

Tightrope walkers of Ghanaian descent

I'll stop here, but the list could be endless.

The weather

It was decidedly hot all day yesterday, and warmish last night. Today looks set to be the same. I hope that people will still want to come and see the historic building today, rather than sloping off down to the beach.

The do

I went to the art gallery yesterday evening, to see an exhibition of works by a local artist. Not my cup of tea but I enjoyed it anyway. I saw a few people there I'm fairly comfortable with. A couple of glasses of rum punch and some nibbles later I took myself home for dinner.

A musical interlude

Good news! I've been booked by a local branch of the Women's Institute to play for their Christmas party in December. They want the 'Mother Kelly's Doorstep' stuff, but I don't mind that.

Last night

It started off comparatively peaceful. Downstairs were having a bit of a party and were in high spirits. I didn't mind it one bit. In fact it was a lovely change to hear people being nice to each other. Then the git upstairs kicked off at about half past nine. The screaming, shouting, chucking things around, banging and crashing went on intermittently until five to eleven, when all of a sudden it went quiet. At ten o'clock the people downstairs were at their window, laughing and joking, when the man upstairs bawled out 'shut up you foreign wanker', and it went completely quiet until the man upstairs started up again shortly afterwards.
I didn't go to bed until midnight. I couldn't settle down, fully expecting a further performance any minute. I slept badly and woke up with a headache. This is now the second time this week that I'm turning up to play feeling completely washed up. I've written to the tenants association telling them what happened. Ain't it miserable.

Now

I returned to the library not too long ago, to find that the earlier batch or morons had left. Since then the computer site that I'd been using has crashed. Meanwhile a talkative old bag with a loud voice is droning on continuously. I'm having a funny day at the library.

Mind-numbing

Good old social media! I noticed (but didn't bother reading) a post listing a number of allegedly 'gay' composers. What the fuck has their sexuality got to do with their music? Were they persecuted because of their sexuality? Was their sexuality expressed through their music? How does the writer even know that these composers were 'gay'? Does it really matter what their sexual orientation was? Why does he deed to draw up such a list of names? This really is crap of the most depressingly pointless order. This is the sort of rubbish one is confronted with when someone is deliberately trying to be clever. I have made my views clear to the writer. Needless to say, my comments didn't get any 'likes'. Big deal.

Tonight

After the visit to the gallery, I'm planning to have a quiet night in. Films may or may not be to hand. Let's see. It depends on how I feel, and on how much noise there is. I'd be more than happy just looking at my balcony, and thinking in peace.

This evening

I've been invited to the pre-opening viewing of an exhibition at a local art gallery. It's really nice to have been invited, but it's a funny one for me. I either like or dislike paintings, and that's all I can really say about them, so I'm probably not the most discerning of critics. I'm worried in case there will be lots of people. I'm definitely going, but I'll have to play it by ear. I don't expect to stay very long, but I'm allowing for the visit being either longer or shorter than anticipated. In short I'm quite unsettled about going.

Now

I want to write a whole page of  swear words, but I won't. A group of the thickest, loudest arseholes I've ever see are disrupting the library. I'm going for a walk before I cry.

Sleep

I slept reasonably well until it started getting light, at which point I woke up several times. I never sleep as well at home as I do when I'm away. I never did really. It was nice getting up this morning and being able to sit in peace, fag in one hand and coffee in the other, looking at the garden on the balcony.

A musical interlude

I had an interesting talk with one of the people who runs the historic building where I play. They've been visited by a major funding body, and are looking for funding to get me a proper harpsichord to play. Nothing definite of course, but I'm so glad they mentioned it.
I'm looking forward to playing there tomorrow and Sunday. Then I'm at the pub on Sunday night. Am I looking forward to that?

Since the interview

I've done nothing but ponder on the words of that doctor the other day, who though the number of autistic people was 'crazy'. His facial expression and sniggering made it clear that he also found it amusing.
My thoughts are as follows. I don't believe that there has been a sudden outbreak of autism. Nor do I believe there is an epidemic. I have come to the conclusion that ASD is nothing more than a way of being human. It stands to reason that there must always have been a substantial number of individuals with autistic brains.
The ASD stuff in itself is not a handicap to start with. It can have certain advantages over non-autistic thought, for example the higher than average intelligence which is necessarily part of the diagnosis. I do not see it as a medical condition, in the sense of it being an illness or disorder. The difficulties we experience are social ones. Society at large requires us to conform to its own standards. We are expected to fit in with it. My experience is that any mental health issues arise out of the struggle to conform.
Numerous images flash through my mind; the autistic caveman sitting apart from the group, thinking and pondering, trying to understand his world. The recusant who refused to attend church, as society's laws compelled him to do. The heretic who set himself apart from society by saying that he did not believe in that which he was required to believe. The wise woman on the edge of a village, living on her own and tending her plants. Jean-Philippe Rameau, highly intelligent and well-read, who preferred to avoid the company of others, and composed into his eighties. (I do not know whether Rameau was autistic. It doesn't matter one way or the other. It is just the image of him that came to mind). The comedian, who makes everyone laugh but is himself sad and isolated, and quite ill-at-ease in company. All the 'eccentrics' who have contributed so much to the world, and who have never quite fitted in with it.
Anyone who thinks that autism is a new thing, an epidemic or an illness must be either ignorant, blind to the facts, or a complete idiot. Or incapable of accepting difference.

Them upstairs

They were in when I got back from the library. Their behavior was radically different and I found that very odd indeed. There was just the occasional bit of stomping and just a couple of outbursts, but they were otherwise very quiet. I couldn't really settle down properly. I was waiting for it to all start up again. Thankfully it didn't. I really don't want any trouble for those neighbours and would feel horrible if I were to cause their eviction. All I want is a reasonable amount of peace.

Last night

When I got home in the evening I was still finding the headache a bit distracting, so I lay down on the sofa. Then I realized that I'd been so occupied with thinking that I'd forgotten to take my blood pressure tablets. Idiot. I always get a headache when I don't take them. It was too late to take them so I rode it out.
After dinner I sat by the balcony for a bit and noticed the first flower buds on a couple of the fuchsias. My headache did ease off during the course of the evening. I didn't watch anything but stayed on the sofa until I went to bed at eleven.

Finally

The headache feels worse, as does the heat. I wouldn't mind a nice, cool sea breeze at the moment, so it won't be quite so stifling. I'm going to have a simple stir fry for dinner, mostly vegetables and noodles with just the tiniest hint of bacon. Then I really am going to lie down and watch a film.

Again

Having told myself that I would go home and rest, here I am at the library. There were some things I wanted to write, and if I'd let it go, I would have forgotten by the morning. Never mind notes on scraps of paper as reminders. At times I've been surrounded by a sea of notes, where I'd kept on forgetting to take notice of them. My mind acts very quickly, so I need to deal with my thoughts while they are fresh, and before they are overtaken by others.

Another autism thing

I went round to see the locked-in teenager earlier on, but didn't get to see him. We wasn't in the right frame of mind to see anyone so stayed in his room.
I think I know how he felt. Rather I remember how I felt sometimes when I wouldn't see people, and would stay in my bedroom until they had left. Some people I just didn't like so would avoid them. Others I did like, only I just didn't feel up to being sociable. It's so easy to feel you're you're being crowded out, when all you want is to be quiet.
When I was in a relationship (for want of a better word), I used to deal with this by cooking and cooking and cooking, thereby ensuring that I was always too busy to entertain. I used to turn out endless cakes, puddings, desserts, bread, pastries, pies, as well as what we were having for dinner. And then there was all the consequent washing and drying up.  I'm sure that other people must have thought it quite ridiculous, but that's how I survived.
I do hope the kid is feeling a bit better when I turn up next week.

Just now

I went home, sorted out some photos I'd just taken, and got changed. There was no noise of any sort coming from upstairs. It was very strange.  I checked plants on the balcony and noticed a couple of changes since yesterday. The hot weather has really brought things on.
I got an email from the witch doctor, saying that unfortunately I hadn't been selected for a second interview. I could lie by saying that I burst into tears, but I'm not going to. At least the reply has saved me the bother of not turning up.

Tonight

I couldn't watch anything the other night as it was too noisy. I'll make up for that later. I think I'll watch The Queen of Spades again, as I did enjoy it at the weekend. I also want to sit at my balcony for a bit, neighbours permitting. Most of all I hope I'll get a bit of peace and quiet.

Now

The headache hasn't gone away. It's over both eyes now and across my forehead. It's not excruciating, but it's still there nonetheless. It's very warm now, and I don't suppose that helps. I think the last few days are beginning to catch up with me. It's crappy people that are playing on my mind the whole time. It's late closing at the library today, and I had planned on doing a bit more on the family history later on. I don't think I will now. It'll be a quick visit to the shops, then home to lie down. It's going to be hamburgers for dinner, quick and easy.

After the interview

Apparently I am to learn today whether I've been selected for a second 'interview'. I've no intention of going now so couldn't care less whether or not I'm selected. If it weren't for that vet's comments I'd willingly have gone, but there's no way I'm going to work for a cunt like that.

Now

I'm feeling quite laid back, which is quite an unusual experience for me. I can't see it lasting. It's very warm outside but overcast, in contrast with the clear skies we had last night and this morning. I still feel a bit headachy, but that's only to do with what's been happening at home. I hope it won't take too long to pass. Of course I'm wondering too what I will go home to. I'm thinking about tonight's dinner. I feel like cooking something but don't know what I fancy. I'll just wait and see what they have in the supermarket and make up my mind then. I'm also thinking about last night and how much I enjoyed it. Times like that make life seem so civilised, so worthwhile.

Yesterday

Offensive people figured largely in my day. It satrted with the aftershock of my neighbours' extremely antisocial behaviour the previous night. Then there was the indoctrination session at the nasty Chiropractitioner's. The man looked like an advert and sounded like a cult. If it weren't for the close people I finished the day with, I could have easily stuck my head in the over. (Oops, forgot it's both electric and broken).

The interview

Let me tell you about the interview that wasn't an interview (re the post of receptionist at a Chiropractitioner's). It was a group session for all sorts of vacancies, and took place as follows.

1) We filled in a questionnaire to ascertain our performance type in the workplace.
2) The practitioner talked about the business.
3) We each got up and talked about ourselves in front of the group.
4) We completed a 'quick-thinking' test sheet.

This is what happened in part two. First of all the man described the company and its other branches. Then he went on about being dynamic and wanting to change people's lives. Yes I am dynamic but not the outward manifestation he described. He then said that university degrees weren't a guarantee of anything, and that in this country one can get a first class degree with marks of 80%. He then talked at length about the Central Nervous System. I'm not sure how relevant this information is to a receptionist or an accountant. He described how all diseases can be attributed to disorders of the nervous system. At one point he said that he went to something and there were loads of autistic people (he sniggered), autism aspergers and all that ( he beamed). It's crazy, he said. He said that autism was caused by birth trauma. Then he talked about depression, and how doctors prescribed antidepressants to make people average. He said it was a nervous system disorder. I don't remember what else he said. His words were going round and round in my head, and I didn't hear anything else he said.
My points are as follows:

1) I don't particularly want to change people's lives. That's why I'm applying for a receptionist job, rather than one as a bishop or a member of parliament.
2) My results from university were 90-95%, and my results were apparently verified by an Oxford Don.
3) I have never before heard his particular theory on autism.
4) I have never heard his theory on why doctors prescribe antidepressants.

I'm not going to go into my feelings, except to say that I'm quite annoyed by what this gentleman said. I couldn't possibly work with someone who is so offensive. I have also asked MIND and the local autism charity if they are aware of this doctor's theories.

Today

I'm still wearing the suit I wore to the 'interview' yesterday, so I don't smell none too fresh. I've got a very busy few hours once I get home, so there's nothing I can do about it. It's not very nice, but that bitter pill I and others will just have to swallow.

The rest of the night

I stayed over at my friend's and slept very soundly. That was the best night's sleep I've had for a long time. I'm still early for the bus home, so thought I'd have a quick go on the computers in the local library. It was nice too to get up without wanting to rush out of the door at the first opportunity. It's bound to be more peaceful at home once the people upstairs have got their letter. Let's see what happens.

Last night

I had a lovely evening watching the telly with my friends. I must say that BBC2 has got its act together since I last watched it. First of all there were some very well-made history documentaries. Then we watched something about people on canal-boats. We had a few good laughs, and the wine went down very well too. Lovely.

My afternoon

I went to the interview. Interview? It was more of a head-fuck. It was too strange for me to go into. I don't do smiley-smiley. I'm a serious sort of person. I'm serious about everything I do. It's not that I don't have a sense of humour. I do, only it's sometimes only understood by me. I am a dynamic force in the workplace, but I do it quietly and seriously, all the time being myself. Smiley-smiley just ain't what I do. It's pretentious. It's phoney. It's a complete load of bollocks and really nauseates me.
Later on I received a reply to the email I sent to the tenants' association regarding my antisocial neighbours. They are taking action. I still feel unhappy that I was forced to complain in the first place, but I can't take much more of it.

A musical interlude

I had a lovely time harpsichording today, with people sitting down to listen, and two of them speaking intelligently about the pieces. That's one of the things I find most satisfying about what I do.

Now

The  headache isn't brilliant. Haven't been able to find the job spec for the interview this afternoon, so I'll have to wing it. Wankers in the library, so I'm going for a walk. What a day.

Autism stuff

I'm having such a hard time lately. Every day I am upset by the terrible noise, sickening behavior and aggressive conduct of my upstairs neighbours. It's all starting to make me feel ill. I wonder if it's the autism that's causing me to react as I do. Am I just being unreasonable? Over-sensitive? Misinterpreting? I wonder too if someone who was not autistic would react differently. I don't know. Perhaps it's just me again.

Later on

I've got the interview at teatime. I couldn't care less about it, but I will present myself as if I could. Afterwards I'm going to see my friend from uni. I need a bit of sanity around me at the moment. I also need a laugh or two, and know that I'll have some. I feel like I'm being driven mad.

This morning

It was fairly bright when  I got up at six, so I sat looking at the balcony. I'm really pleased with the little garden I've made there. It's a little oasis in a sea of misery. It's been an odd morning. Sitting swigging me coffee, puffing on me fags, enjoying me plants, and feeling upset and worried about the cunts who live upstairs. They were strangely quiet this morning. I expect they were having a nice lie-in. Cunts.

Last night

The people upstairs' screaming match started at 6.20pm. It was still going on when I went to bed at eleven. Their windows were open, and the people might just as well have been in my front room. Of course this was in counterpoint with the banging, crashing and throwing around of things. At one point a bin bag full of something went plummeting past my window into the road. I went down and moved it before it caused an accident.I nearly lost it around 9pm and shouted out 'for gods sake shut up', at which point they closed their windows.
Sounds and noise affect me very badly. So does aggressive behavior. I have been upset and edgy since yesterday evening, and consequently I slept very badly. So this morning I'm nice and tired and have a nice headache, ready to play this lunchtime and to go to the interview this afternoon.
I emailed the residents' association this morning, and have listed all the antisocial behavior that I've put up with these past couple of months. That's made me feel even worse. I don't like complaining.

Just now

I popped out for a regulation fag with my mind in overdrive, full of tomorrow's interview, the people upstairs, the people at the library. consequently I feel unsettled, on tenterhooks, not looking forward to not getting much peace tonight. That's not a happy expectation. I really don't like people. I dislike them even more than I used to. They are thoughtless, inconsiderate, selfish and antisocial. The people I am close to aren't like that. I wouldn't want to know them if they were. I am close to them because they are special.

A musical interlude

I had thought that I'd have to curtail tomorrow's harpsichord session because of the job interview. When I checked the email, I realised that the interview isn't until teatime. I'm so pleased that I can play as normal.
It's another example of how my brain works. If I'm not really interested in something, my brain just doesn't want to take it in. I sort of half-remember, but the particulars get all jumbled. It's a good job I checked.

Earlier

I went for a walk down the high street. First on the list was a rummage round one of the charity shops. I picked up a lovely, stylish jacket for only a quid. Then I picked up a pasty to eat on the way back to the library. When I got there I was glad to see that most of the pea-brains had already left. My heart sank shortly afterwards, when a batch of lowlifes replaced them. Indescribable. I could feel a headache coming on so I left.

Tonight

It's going to be another quiet night in. I've watched some really good films lately. I forgot to mention the stunningly good film I watched on Saturday night: The Queen of Spades (1949), based on Pushkin. The strong cast is headed by Edith Evans, Anton Walbrook & Yvonne Mitchell. I think I might watch it again later.

The weather

The clouds were heavy and dark when I woke up, and I could see that it must have rained during the night. Since then it's become gradually brighter, and now it appears to be sunny. That's ideal. I think I'll walk for a bit.

Today

I was out like a light last night, and don't remember waking up at all during the night. I woke up still feeling tired though, and the back and arms still ache considerably, I enjoyed this morning's stamping and shouting (from upstairs) with this morning's coffee. Now I'm enjoying miskallaneus gibbons and imbeciles at the library. I'm going shortly before I lose the will to live.

The interview

I have the dreaded interview tomorrow. Although I really don't want the job, I will give the best account of myself, and will take it if I'm offered. This time though I will make a point of telling them about both the ASD and the seizures. I'm not going to spend the rest of my working life hiding it all any more..

Upstairs

It's getting worse. Last night there was another one of their screaming matches at just after eight, with the windows open. Then the stamping began. Then he started screaming like a wild animal and banging some furniture. The kid was screaming uncontrollably. It repeated a couple of hours later, but the windows were closed. There is definitely something wrong upstairs. Two out-of-control adults, whose example is being followed by their kid. It's very frightening and upsetting and puts me completely on edge.

Last night

I had a quiet one, which was a very simple dinner followed by The Yellow Balloon (1953), before turning in at ten.

The weekend

I popped into the 99p shop and picked up two more hanging baskets. My little garden on the balcony is now complete. When I got home from the pub last night at around eleven, I sat there enjoying a bit of peace. Then at half past the people upstairs decided to have another screaming match with their window open. That was that. I wish they'd move.

Interesting news

Last week I went to see a teenager who is very locked in by his autism. He wasn't very communicative, but there were the odd glimpses here and there that I had got through. I saw his mother at the weekend. She told me that her son liked me, and wanted me to come back. That was nice news. Let's see how I can help him to make his life a bit more comfortable. This news has cheered me up. I know what I've been through, and wouldn't wish it on anyone.

Now

That was an exhausting weekend. I am extremely tired this morning. Backache, neckache, armache, you name it. I have to move the keyboard later, but otherwise I'm going to take it very easy. I was at the workhouse earlier, and told them about the job interview this coming Wednesday and the musical stuff. They're all hunky-dory.

Another musical interlude

It has been an interesting weekend. Not long ago I was due to play for an event which was later cancelled. Well on Saturday the woman who owns the hall came to hear me, and she introduced herself. She obviously felt uncomfortable about the cancellation and brought me a very posh box of biscuits. Of course she needn't have done that. It wasn't her fault. Apparently she has been putting my name forward to people looking for someone to play the piano. That is a big help and much appreciated.
I also bumped into someone else who is involved in setting up some community choir or other, and they need an accompanist. Yep. I'm up for it.

A musical interlude

I've been very busy this weekend, and played a three-and- a- half-hour session followed by a two-and-a-half hour session on both Saturday and Sunday. I enjoyed the harpsichording, and the new pieces went down very well. I liked having people sitting down to listen throughout the day. I had some fun too, and got two very little girls to dance to the music, to the delight of their mother. Later on a group of dodgy-looking teenagers came over, and one of them started plinking the top notes while I was playing. Quick thinking was required, so I got up and let him have a go an my keyboard. He couldn't play, but his face lit up as he fumbled around. They were my best friends afterwards.
I got nattering to a group of women who had come to play mediaeval music on the recorders. One of them was a gamba player, and I played her a couple of pieces by Forqueray that had begun life as gamba pieces. I was pleased that she both knew and played them.
The pub was more than usually tedious. There were one or two friendly faces, and it was such a relief to see them.

The weather

It's holding up so far so we'll have plenty of visitors, touch wood. I've just read the French weather forecast and rain is expected for the end of today. That means that we'll get it either just before or just after them. I hope it doesn't come until everything is finished.

Now

Just getting ready for the walk to the historic building via the shops. This is going to be a long day, but I am looking forward to it. So it's orf we go!

Another musical interlude

I've got a busy weekend. Today I'm playing from 11.30am to 2.30pm, then from 4pm to 7pm. A couple of people I know have said they would try to come, but I'm fully prepared for the expectation that I'm unlikely to see either them or anyone else I know.
Tomorrow I'm playing from 11.30am to 2.30pm, then from 7pm to 9 or 10pm, with a nap and dinner in between. I expect I'll be a bit tired on Monday.

A musical interlude

Polyphony polyphony polyphony. I'm polyphonied up to the eyeballs. As much as I've grown to love the new pieces, I'm beginning to feel like I'm being haunted by them. The same thing happened in the times leading up to my professional recitals. Day and night the things keep going round and round. It just never stops. I'm going to have a drop of wine and let go tonight.

Last night

After dinner I started watching The Passionate Friends (1949), directed by David Lean and starring Ann Todd and Trevor Howard. It was dire so I ignored it after a short while. As is usual with Lean's films it was well shot. So should the author have been for writing such drivel. I turned in at half past ten.

Tonight

It's going to be another quiet one with a film or two. The weather feels like it's turning, but I hope it will be warm enough for me to sit at the balcony. I'm sure I spend far too much time watching my little garden. Perhaps I'm hoping to detect some growth! I like plants, and am really enjoying my balcony.

Now

Here I am, back at the library. I really am a creature of habit. I'm not generally here as late as this, but I lost some time this afternoon when I did other things. I wanted to catch up on my social network.
Writing has become so beneficial to me, as I spend nearly all my waking hours in silence. By brain is quite the opposite, always thinking of one or more things, day and night. Writing enables me to capture some of those thoughts at the time I am thinking them. It's my way of talking to anyone who cares to listen, without me actually speaking. I have always struggled with verbal conversation, and still often find it hard to talk. Talking is not a natural activity for me, except when I've had a drink. I actually talk a lot, but with my hands at a computer keyboard.

Just now

Earlier on I went and met the autistic teenager. The poor sod was really locked in, but we did manage to communicate. I bet he's really clever too, even though he denies it.
Afterwards I went to the historic building to run through tomorrow's program. The new pieces are technically very demanding and buggers to articulate. I'm feeling rather pleased with myself for learning all six of them within a week. I'm sure I'm not as daft as I look.

A musical interlude

The historic building where I play is generally closed on Thursdays and Fridays. This week I have access on both days, because people are doing up the garden. I must say it's starting to look beautiful.
Yesterday afternoon  I rehearsed my program for Saturday, and will do the same this afternoon.
I'm playing five Pavan & Galliard pairings by William Byrd, each of which takes between five and ten minutes to play. In between I'll play about twenty-odd smaller pieces, mostly by Byrd, but with a few by Giles and Richard Farnaby, and one by John Bull. I'm getting geared up for it now.

Later on

This lunchtime I'm going to see someone I know whose son has ASD and is apparently very withdrawn. I really like meeting people who are like myself.  I've been told he likes maths and wildfowl, so I think we'll get along fine. Let's see what I can do, if anything, to draw him out of his shell.

Sleep

I  fell asleep as soon as I got into bed, but woke up with a start at about four this morning. I could have done with a couple more hours' sleep. Never mind. I suppose I ought to be used to tiredness by now.

Last night

I met up with my friend at the pub where I play, and had a lovely couple of hours catching up and having a laugh. The weather was fantastic so we sat outside. Afterwards I went home and cooked dinner, which wasn't ready until half past nine. I finished the evening with The Happy Family (1952), a great comedy with Stanley Holloway, Kathleen Harrison, Dandy Nicholls, Naunton Wayne and George Cole. Bed at eleven.

Later on

I'm just about to wander orf into the sunshine and go through the music stuff. Tonight will be a pint with a friend, then home for a simple dinner and a film or two. I hope my temper will have eased off by then.

Re just now

I'm not seeing someone about the music tomorrow. I'm seeing someone else about something else. This is my frame of mind now. I had totally confused different messages from two entirely different people. It's crap. That's the trouble. All the bloody thinking gets in the way.

Just now

I just received a message saying that someone wants to meet me tomorrow re the music. That's good news. It's even better that they have approached me, rather than vice versa. At least I hope it's good news. I'm feeling very unsettled at the moment. It's one of those times where I'm thinking a lot, because I don't like uncertainty. I also dislike certainty, when that certainty is different from what one had previously believed. It'll pass.

Modern technology

The BBC have apparently invented a device which allows a viewer's brainwaves to change channels. This is quite disturbing. What other things could such an invention be used for? On the other hand it would be a godsend for those too lazy to pick up a remote control or, dare I say it, actually get up and press a button or two? It would leave both hands free to mindlessly pig down food while mindlessly watching mindless programmes.

Today

I'm going to do some more on the family history to keep my mind occupied. I'm also starting to prepare myself for the job interview next Wednesday. Although the position isn't really suited to me, I intend to try and give a good account of myself. This afternoon I'll go to the historic building to work on the new pieces I'm preparing for Saturday evening.

This morning

You will probably realize by now that I'm not very good at understanding people. I just don't get them. I spend a lot of my time trying to reconcile what I see and hear with what I think. Here's another example. I am told that someone is a 'nice' person (how I'm beginning to fucking hate that word), yet what I see and what I think tell me something else. As far as I am concerned my real friends would not be friends with my enemies. Simple as that. So it's goodbye to them.

C’est ça. Finis.

Last night

It stayed very warm all night, so I spent some time sitting at the balcony. I watched Carnival (1946) before going to bed at half past ten. I woke up a few times during the night, I suppose because of the heat. I was wide awake at twenty past three, listening to the rain. I woke up finally at seven.

Now

I feel slightly zonked, but I'm sure it will pass before long. I expect I'll pick out a couple of melodramas to watch later. It's a sultry afternoon, and I hope to be able to enjoy the balcony too.

A funny day

Harpsichording wasn't much fun. I gave the 29p donation to the historic building. Then I went and saw about getting a form filled in. It took two and a half hours. That was epic. The good thing is that the person has included all the autism-related issues, rather than just the fits. Let's see what happens.

Musical stuff

I'm looking forward to harpsichording in a little while. I saw tourists looking at the building when I passed it earlier, so I hope we'll have plenty of visitors today. I'm looking dapper in a charity shop suit, charity shop tie and charity shop shoes. Those charity shops have been a godsend to me. I am now able to dress smartly in a number of different suits.

News

I applied for a customer service job last week, and have been shortlisted for an interview. I can't remember anything about the job. I don't particularly care about it. My twelve years in customer service felt like a life sentence. The job made me ill, or rather the customers did. The firm is in a difficult place to reach. I'm not at all excited, and don't expect to get it.

The weather

Yesterday afternoon we had beautiful summer weather. It continues sunny this morning and feels really quite hot, although there is a light, cool breeze. When I got to the library the miserable cunt who complained about it being too cold on Monday, started complaining about it being too hot today. I turned my back. I could have spat. Moaning really gives me the hump, particularly when it's about something so unimportant. Some people just don't appreciate how lucky they are.

Sleep

It wasn't great last night. I seemed to be half awake a lot of the time, turning round and trying to settle down. I was wide awake at four o'clock, and watched it starting to get lighter, before nodding off for a couple of hours. I feel a bit tired.

Last night

I didn't enjoy the spaghetti & meatballs as much as I did on Monday. I watched Bedelia (1946) and Good Time Girl (1948). Nothing like a couple of nice melodramas to while away the evening! I turned in at half past ten.

News

I've seen a story about a certain rich, middle-eastern country, where capital punishment and judicial mutilations are widespread and endemic. The item discussed that country's proposal to replace public beheadings with more 'humane' methods of execution.
Does it really matter which particular method is used to kill people? They are just as dead at the end of the process. Is this not an abuse of the very technology which was intended to be of benefit to mankind? There is nothing humane about judicial murder. It is mediaeval and barbaric, and surely has no place in the modern world. In my opinion, that country might do well to have a good hard look in the mirror, and ask itself why its laws require so many people to die. It might also do well to look into possible alternative punishments, ones that don't require people to be put to death. I fear that such hopes will not be realised, in a country where the laws of the land are dictated by an exceptionally brutal and intolerant theocracy.
I shouldn't have read the news. It's depressing. I could cry.

Just now

I went outside for a fag and enjoyed the warm sunshine. I wasn't relaxed though. My brain is going overtime. There's an undercurrent of excitement on the musical front, combined with the expectation that I will not succeed. I am very wary of counting my chickens. That is my paradox. I have a more than usually intelligent brain, but it always tries to work against me. I remember the physical self-harming tendencies which are so prevalent among autistic people. I don't do that. I do it psychologically.

A social whirl

In a couple of days time I'm going for a pint with someone I have a lot of time for. That will be two evenings out in the space of a week, which is a rare occurrence for me nowadays. We're going to meet up at the pub where I play. I like it there alright. I like the atmosphere and the general friendliness of the place. I like the staff, and feel comfortable because nobody's 'in your face'. The only thing I don't like is the meanness of the landlord. It's a sad fact that his meanness is legendary in this town, and he is unpopular with the local people because of it. I wouldn't like that sort of reputation.

A third interlude (of the musical variety)

I'm really looking forward to the event I'm playing at on Saturday. Playing sixteenth-century music in a sixteenth-century room is one of the most satisfying things I've ever done. I know I'm not the world's greatest player, not by a long chalk, but I play competently and stylishly, and give an account of the music that is faithful to the period and style. I know my stuff, and I have been told (by people who know) that my scholarly approach to playing informs my performance. I can't see myself at St John's, Smith Square just yet. It doesn't matter to me. I like what I'm doing.

Another musical interlude

I've had further messages from the owner of the hall where I was due to play yesterday. She is coming to see me at the event I'm playing at on Saturday, and is bringing the Women's Institute lady with her. It's looking good! I hope something will come of it. I allow the pub to take advantage of me out of sheer necessity. I know my worth. As soon as I start getting bookings that pay me properly, the pub won't see my arse for dust. I'm very encouraged by the fact that my reputation is spreading by word of mouth.

The weather

It gradually brightened up during the day, and the end of the afternoon was sunny and quite warm. It was sunny when I got up this morning, but has gradually clouded over since. It isn't cold though, and there is still a glimmer of brightness. I think it will be nice later on, or rather, I hope it will.

A musical interlude

The owner of the hall where I was due to play yesterday contacted me this morning. She has given my details to the local Women's Institute, who want someone to play for their Christmas do. I love it when people recommend me. It means that they like what I do.

Them upstairs

I had a couple of hours' worth of the booming bass lines; It wasn't loud but I could feel it in my arms and chest. I think their speakers must be on the floor. I had a bit of a nauseous headache by the time I went to bed. I slept straight through to seven this morning, apart from a ten-yard sprint at some point during the night. I still feel tired this morning. There is still some hint of a headache, but nothing like as nasty as it was at bedtime.

The rest of yesterday

I felt like doing something to occupy the brain cells, so I made some meatballs and pasta. I enjoyed them, and finished my dinner in one go. I'm having them tonight as well, but will freeze the rest.
Later on I enjoyed a couple of melodramas; A Place Of One's Own (1945) and Hatter's Castle (1942). I love the stagey acting and great story lines, and the great acing by Robert Newton, Margaret Lockwood, Dennis Price, James Mason etc. I turned in at half past ten.

Yesterday afternoon

IT and I weren't the best of friends. I was merrily tapping away in the library, when I suddenly got booted out of everything I was doing, and couldn't access anything afterwards. Apparently the computers had been throwing a bit of a strop, and it was just my turn. So I ended up doing some boring stuff instead; laundry, washing-up and shopping.

Just now

I felt ravenously hungry, so took myself to the local butchers. They never fail to impress me. Where else can one buy three delicious grilled lamb cutlets for a quid? They went down a treat with the thin, salty chips I got at the hamburger joint.
When I think about it, I usually feel half-starved on Mondays. Sunday is a long day for me. Last night I didn't finish playing until nearly eleven, which is well past my bedtime. Also I tend to eat food that is easy and quick to prepare and eat. I don't feel hungry now.

The weather

It's been warm all weekend, although overcast for much of the time. It started drizzling yesterday evening, but not for long. This morning it's cold and windy, with thick grey clouds. It certainly doesn't feel like midsummer.

In the boozer

I stayed for a pint or two after I had finished playing. I spent most of the time with a couple of people I know. It was strange but I seemed to be everyone's best friend last night. People who were just down for a day or two kept talking to me all night. That was quite exhausting, but it's a nice feeling. Later on some ridiculously camp person came in and starting antagonizing the people I was with. There was a stampede as the people rushed out for a fag to escape, leaving me with the person. I'm afraid I had words with him. He instantly quietened down and left shortly afterwards, leaving the rest of us in peace. I didn't leave until nearly 1am.

A musical interlude

I've been doing some work on Mozart's sonata K333. I've almost dusted off the second and third movements, so I expect I'll be inflicting them on the unsuspecting public on Sunday. I've also been learning some more pieces by Byrd, ready for next Saturday's event.
Yesterday's harpsichording went well, and once or twice I had an audience. The pub was better than expected too, and several people came over and said how much they enjoyed the music. I tend to finish off with some classical pieces, and these seem to be going down surprisingly well with the drinkers.

Saturday night

There was some sort of music event in a junkyard just up the road from me, that went on all Saturday evening and well into the night. I don't know if the music was live or if it was recorded. All I know is that it sounded of electricals. It didn't worry me one bit. It was far away enough to mitigate any booming bass lines. I much preferred it to the shit that the people upstairs inflict upon me. It did wake me up a number of times, but I didn't really mind. I did get up feeling very tired on Sunday, but managed to sleep for an hour during the afternoon.

Saturday evening

There was nothing wrong with my dinner except that I didn't enjoy it. I didn't want much of it, so tucked in to a bar of chocolate instead. I enjoyed watching two of my old films; Jassy (1947) and Waterfront (1950). I do like a good melodrama. I turned in at about half past ten.

Unexpected

Here I am back at the library. This morning I didn't think I would be back. I needed to get some filters from the cheap shop in the High Street, and the library is just around the corner from it. The good thing is that I can now get a bus to the letting agents. I do feel tired. I'm going straight home afterwards.

Just now

Harpsichording went well, with several people sitting down to listen, and quite a few nice comments. Something strange happened. A person came in that I worked with about thirty years ago. Thankfully he didn't recognize me. If he had I would have lost my temper.

Later

I don't know if I'm coming back to the library once I've finished playing. I need to go and pay my rent this afternoon. I'm tired so I think I'll go straight home afterwards.
I expect I'll watch a film or two tonight. Or perhaps I won't. I'll know soon enough.

Round and round

I'm quite preoccupied at the moment. It must seem odd but I'm thinking about thinking. The thoughts are all swilling round. I latch on to one of them, and then the lateral thinking kicks in, all the things that are connected with the thing I'm thinking about. One thought triggers another, and so it escalates. Most of the time I seem to manage fairly well. Other times it can be both trying and exhausting. It becomes a barrier to getting anything done. Never mind. I'll just hang on and let it run its course.

Now

I went out for a fag. It's warm enough but looks like it will rain before too long. I still feel tired and a bit headachey, but I suppose a lot of that is down to the way my brain works. With ASD it is said that the brain has an on switch and an off switch. I think mine has always been broken. I just never stop actively thinking. Groan.

Sleep

I had a bumpy night, which was probably down to my mood being so prickly with the upstairs neighbours. I got up feeling tired and washed up, and still do. I had some toast earlier, so I should come round eventually.

A musical interlude

This morning I received notification that the charity I was due to play fore on Monday hadn't notified enough of its volunteers, and has therefore cancelled the event. That's very late notice indeed and quite disappointing. On the other hand I'm quite relived that I shan't have to play the knees-up stuff all over again, having already played it the previous night.
I'm looking forward to the harpsichording sessions today and tomorrow. The weather isn't brilliant, but it looks like it's trying to brighten up. With a bit of luck we should get some visitors today.
I'm at the pub tomorrow night. I'm not looking forward to that. I just do it.

Them upstairs

Yesterday they were quite disgraceful. When I got home from the library they were in the middle of a screaming match with some other people. And they screamed, I can tell you. They were calling each other every name imaginable. And they had their windows open. The cunts.
The general stomping around and occasional outbursts continued until about nine, when it sounds like they were having a session of drinks, or drugs, or both with other people. The noise was unimaginable.
I was up at five this morning, and had real peace until the booming bassline started just after seven. It wasn't all that loud but it's very intrusive.
I don't know what to do. I'm worried about speaking to them as they seem to be so out of control and antisocial. Also I've been disturbed late at night by people outside whistling or calling out to them, and by people throwing things to tap their window. I think I know what they must be up to.

Last night

Dinner was quite unremarkable, but I managed to eat it in two goes. I watched London Belongs to Me (1948). I find it relaxing because so many of my favourite actors are in it; Alastair Sim, Fay Compton, Richard Attenborough, Sidney Tafler, Joyce Carey, Susan Shaw, Gladys Henson, just to name a few. I turned in at ten.

The rest of today

When I get home I'll kill a few hours, plugging more data onto the computer. It'll be films tonight. I don't know what I'll watch. I have enjoyed the John Mills ones though. Once upon a time this country knew how to make a good film.

Shortly

I'll take myself for a short walk, to get a breath of air. I've got a particularly boring chore to do, so I'll do that at the same time. I don't plan on shopping today, as I've got things I can rescue from the freezer. I'm in a bit of a funny mood now, probably resulting from all the noise and a complete lack of nicotine.

Now

I'm feeling relatively pleased with myself, as I've only had one fag in nearly six hours. I need to get out of the library. Even though I've got the earphones in, all I can hear is loud voices either talking on mobiles or to other voices. I swear I'm going to lose my temper one of these days. I hate rudeness.

Social media

I do see some complete shite. This morning there was a picture of some dear fluffy little cats from an animal charity. I've blocked them. I don't want to see that sort of rubbish. Five minutes later I saw a picture of a morbidly obese kid in a tracksuit doing what appears to be a belly dance. Yugh. I find that really horrible. If the person ever posts anything like that again, I'll cut them off.

At the boozer

I'm not used to going out anymore. It never came naturally to me in the first place. As much as I enjoyed myself last night, I couldn't help noticing all the people, and there was a constant awareness of their presence. I felt quite safe though, and as usual for the place we went to, nobody bothered or upset me. I nattered to two people I know socially, and it was all at arm's length. Just how I like it. I had a couple of very difficult moments when some very loud motorbikes drew up. They kept their engines running and revved up several times. I coped alright. Just took a few deep breaths and shut my eyes.

This morning

I woke up feeling a bit hazy. Nothing to do with the cider, of course (!). I only had two pints, but I'm just not used to it anymore. We're expecting thunderstorms today, and the hazy, bright sky indicates that they aren't too far away. There has already been a spot or two of rain, and I think it must have rained during the night. It's very warm, and I don't like the daylight one bit.

Last night

After an enjoyable (junk) meal I put together from things in the freezer, I met my friend for a couple of pints. There was some music going on, so we sat outside and enjoyed the mild temperature and glorious sunset. Later on Jupiter shone brilliantly, and we saw the space station fly overhead. I felt puckish when I got home at eleven and didn't fancy going to bed, so I made a Scottish breakfast roll (with lorne sausage, tottie scone and brown sauce), and watched Flame in the Streets (1961). The central family is played by John Mills (working-class accent), Sylvia Syms (educated working-class accent), Brenda de Banzie (just-out-of-finishing-school accent) and Wilfred Brambell (indeterminate Anglo-Irish accent). Notwithstanding all this, the film is very well done. I turned in around half past twelve, and don't think I woke up at all during the night, before getting up at eight this morning.

Tonight

I've been invited out for a pint after dinner. I'm looking forward to that. It'll make a nice change. Afterwards I plan to watch at least one Christopher Lee film, having learned that he has died. Perhaps I won't watch one after all. I can always watch it another time. I don't need to get swept up in all that stuff. I don't do fame.

Now

I've had a really trying day, with intolerable noise most of the time from some of the most uninspiring dullards you could imagine. I'm not kidding you when I say that earlier on, I thought it was a special day here for people with learning difficulties. Then the sad realisation that these were in fact 'normal' people kicked in, leaving me rather stunned. I was determined to stay here and finish what I wanted to do, despite the noise.

Now

Some moron is whizzing round and round on his computer chair, and talking loudly on his phone at the same time. Thinking laterally, I keep seeing news reports of some 'actors' from a tv series who are in our area. I bet that idiot rushes home to see that shit every evening, knows all the story lines, and spends time talking about it afterwards. It's frightening that people like that are allowed to vote and to have children.

Civilised man?

Yesterday I read the appalling news of an execution in Pakistan. The victim had always maintained his innocence, was a minor at the time of the alleged offence, and made a confession apparently under torture. What is more his execution had been stayed at the time it was carried out.
That is the real problem with capital punishment; someone must be executed at all costs. If the authorities can't find the right person, then anybody will do. So long as someone is executed, the general populace is conned into believing that justice has been done. What justice? Is judicial murder justice? No. Killing is not justice. It is nothing more than revenge.

Weather

The strong winds continued all day before easing off just before nightfall. It's a much nicer sort of day today, with blue skies and sunshine. The breeze is still on the chilly side, but the sun is warm. I don't mind this at all. It's so much nicer than what we've had for the past few days.

Them upstairs

They have been very much quieter since the weekend. I don't hear the kid crying anymore. In fact I don't hear any kids at all which is strange, considering one of them is a toddler. I heard the stampeding noise and  think I've sussed out what it is; a small dog. Dogs aren't allowed in the building. They won't half cop it if anyone finds out.

Last night

I had a very quiet time watching two films starring John Mills: The History of Mr Polly (1949), based on a novel by HG Wells, and The October Man (1947), about a man recovering from a head injury who is framed for murder. I just love the diction, things like 'thet's ebsolyutely fentestic'. I quite enjoyed both films, although I didn't particularly take much notice of them. I turned in at ten, but didn't sleep all that well. I remember being awake a few times before getting up at five this morning.

A visit

I was expecting  a couple of my cousins to visit me in August, but they have cancelled due to other commitments. I don't mind at all. I'm more than happy with things as they are. It will be nice to finally meet them one day, but it still feels a bit soon. I've only known them a couple of months. I like being in touch with them though.

Just now

The harpsichording went relatively well, although we didn't have many customers. I used the time to practice new pieces for next weekend's event. We did have a sizeable delegation from an important local group. They were so important that they left without feeling the need to say goodbye.

A creature of habit

My usual Wednesday routine will soon kick in, of the two trips moving the keyboard etc to the historic building. I don't mind it nearly so much, now that I'm feeling better. I wish I could leave it there, after all I play it more often there than anywhere else. Never mind though. The keyboard has been such a great boon to me, and I know that I'm very lucky to have it.

Scavenging

We were very hard up when I was young, and many of my clothes were given to me by neighbours. As an adult I hated second-hand clothes with a vengeance, and would rather go without than have them. All this changed very recently, where I needed to buy smart clothes to play in, but on a limited budget.
Second-hand clothes also had another connotation for me. They reminded me of a particularly horrific time in my life, namely the age of sixteen. I cannot find adequate words to describe how my mum and her husband treated me when I 'came out'. I was subjected to a sustained campaign of constant verbal and psychological abuse. My brother still gets very upset about it. It continued to the day I moved out. One thing I remember is that while I was still at school, my mum gave me a pair of second-hand women's trousers to wear. I really hated it, and decided I would leave school at the end of term, find a job and move out. It doesn't require much imagination to guess how the other kids treated me because of it.
I've really overcome a lot to wear second-hand clothes, when I think about it.

A musical interlude

Someone at the boozer where I play has repeatedly asked me to play some Mozart. I'm currently revisiting K333. I haven't played Mozart for decades, but have been told that I play him particularly well, at least I used to. The lecturers at uni used to say that all my playing was informed by scholarly research. I have to admit this is true. I have read extensively about the performance practices of past ages, because I want to give a faithful interpretation of what the composer intended. I do not like heavily romanticised performances of Mozart, nor do I like some of the empty, mechanical 'virtuosity' that some players like to emphasise. Classical composers manipulated the listener's expectations through their music, for example by 'tweaking' the formal structure of a piece, or by doing something original with the harmony. The music is completely unemotional. Rather it is cool and intellectual. Romanticism and virtuosity for its own sake belong to later centuries, the nineteenth in particular.

Family history

I've noticed a quite common trend in my extended family. Come individuals move to a completely different area from where they grew up. Several generations later, their descendants gravitate back to the area from whence the family had originated. I have done the same thing, as it turns out.
We talk of 'branches' of a family tree. I can see why, but I reckon they are just as much 'roots' as 'branches'.

Marketing

When I went to the bathroom this morning, I couldn't help noticing that there was a picture of a fluffy-looking cat on the toilet paper wrappings. I then remembered a famous brand of lavatory paper that uses a cute little puppy to sell itself. Then I got thinking. What is the connection between pets and loo rolls?, I asked myself. Is toilet paper supposed to be cute and loveable? Are we supposed to keep it as a pet? Do the manufacturers mean to suggest how pets may be used in cases of emergency? I then hit upon the right answer, that loo roll manufacturers are manipulating us into buying their wares, in the same way that pets manipulate their owners into doing what they want them to do.

This morning

It was quite chilly when I woke up, and it looked like the clouds were breaking up. There was glorious sunshine for all of ten seconds, before a mass of heavy grey clouds blew in off the sea. I took my time with the coffee and fags, sitting deep in thought and watching the sky changing by the minute. I felt bored so played a couple of card games on the computer.

Last night

When I got home I plugged in my latest family history stuff, after which I made a quick vegetarian meal. It was thoroughly uninspiring, but I finished it after two attempts. I spent the evening watching three Sherlock Holmes dramatisations; The Abbey Grange, The Man With The Twisted Lip, and The Six Napoleons, before turning in at ten. I slept reasonably well, I think, and only remember waking up once during the night. I woke up feeling tired at half past five this morning.

A musical interlude

This week I've got the usual three harpsichord sessions and the 'knees up mother brown' stuff at the pub on Sunday. I'm feeling much readier for that than I did last week. I'm doing the same next week, except I'm also playing for a charity event on Monday afternoon, and will be playing throughout Saturday afternoon and evening for the event at the historic building. We're all volunteers there, so I certainly don't expect to be paid anything. I wonder, though, if they'd give me a glass or two of wine for medicinal purposes if I were to ask them nicely?

Now

Having worked on the family tree for a couple of hours I needed a break, so I went out for a fag. The sun is breaking through in places but the wind is very strong and it feels more like February than June. There seemed to be a disproportionately large number of butch women with vicious-looking dogs out there. That's what I like about this town. You always see something different.

Just now

While I was out I went and trawled a couple of charity shops. I saw a lovely jacket, but I don't really need any more jackets, and I didn't want to buy it just for the sake of it. Afterwards I spent some time avoiding sticks, pushchairs and miscellaneous mobility devices in the supermarket. While I was there I bumped into one of the people who volunteers at the historic building I play at, so we had a natter about our shared interest, gardening.
The wind has grown much stronger and colder now, and there are some pretty large waves blowing in.

Noise

I've just had a really difficult time of it. I left the library to get away from the noise. Outside McDonalds in the high street, a dog was tied up and barking uncontrollably. Animals like that want putting down. I could still hear it from some distance away. I got back to the library, and some teenagers who appeared to be on something were whizzing up and down the computer room on their computer chairs, and making as much noise as possible. They've left the room now, but my heart sank when I saw the fat gormless woman and the skinny gormless man come in. It won't be quiet for long, I can tell you. I have also heard the man with glazed expression and a laugh like a drain being unblocked come in. I don't half feel upset.

People

The library is chocka with the babbling community. They also screech and giggle loudly and hysterically from time to time, but I think they just do it for the sake of variety. The earplugs have been in for a while, but they haven't really proved efficacious today. I've got a blinding headache and feel a bit nauseous. I think I'll go and sit outside for a bit.

Again

The library's only loo is out of order yet again. The thing is out of order as least as frequently as it is functional. It's really quite disgraceful, and is actually a health and safety issue. One of my blood pressure tablets is a diuretic. I have a good mind to go and piss in one of the waste paper bins. This is just about the most inconvenient convenience I have ever come across.

Them upstairs

It's been unusually quiet upstairs since I spoke to the neighbours last Sunday. I heard a minor stampede at about half past eight yesterday evening, and a booming bass line, but not too loud, shortly afterwards. It was all over in a matter of minutes. It's so much nicer when one is left in peace.

The weather

My flat gets sunshine in the morning, but shade in the afternoon. A stiff breeze came in off the sea yesterday afternoon, so it actually felt quite chilly. It was too chilly to sit at the balcony so I didn't.
When I woke up at six this morning it looked like it was trying to brighten up, but heavy grey clouds have blown in since then, and there's a cold wind again. I can't see properly from here, but I think the sun is starting to come through now.

Last night

I had a quiet time watching films. I started with Captain Kydd (1945). It's not my favourite film, but Charles Laughton is one of my favourite actors. Historical accuracy doesn't even come into it. There's one lovely shot of the Tower of London and Tower Bridge, with the caption 'Back in London'. Tower Bridge was built around 1894 if my memory serves me right, but the film is set around 1700. Hilarious! Afterwards I watched a delightful, inconsequential comedy called Make Mine Mink (1960). I turned in around ten.

Nearly

I've just remembered that I need to collect my keyboard from the pub. Do you know I'd completely forgotten about it. That's what happens when I can't stop thinking. I suppose I'd better go and get it before I forget again.

A result

I am in the process of applying for things which I'm entitled to because of my fits. The form arrived a couple of days ago, and it looks like it's booby-trapped up to the hilt. I've just spoken to someone at the disability drop-in centre, and they've made an appointment to help me fill in the form next week. I'm afraid there's a whole wall of silence around some health matters. One needs to know exactly the right questions to ask, because no-one tells you otherwise.

Just now

I took myself up to the pound shop, only to discover that they'd sold out of the thing I'd mainly gone there for. Never mind. I had a stroll around and enjoyed the weather for a bit.
The people outside are slightly different today. This time it's a sea of pushchairs out there. There was a slight scene earlier when someone with a pushchair couldn't get on the bus. There were already three pushchairs on board, and there simply wasn't room for another. I've just had a brilliant idea. Why don't they have pushchair-only buses, where pushchairs are only allowed on these, and no other buses? Lovely! It would be nice and quiet for the rest of us!

Tonight

I shouldn't be at all surprised if tonight turns out to be a repeat of last Friday. I expect that after dinner I'll bung a film on, but sit at my balcony and look at my little garden. I can tell you there are going to be murders if that lot upstairs start. Grrrrrrrrrrrr. They're really giving me the hump now.

News

I don't bother reading national news anymore. It's boring. I don't need to know beforehand how much we're going to be stung for. I prefer it to come as an unpleasant surprise.
On the other hand I always worry when the international news is boring. The world is a big place, so there must be lots of interesting things happening in it at any given time. All this leads me to suspect that when the world news is boring, it must be that we're not being told about the interesting things.

The weather

We're now enjoying our third day of the most beautiful weather. There's a cool breeze from time to time, which I enjoy, but the sun is starting to feel hot. I love the blue skies. Last night was very mild indeed, and I slept with all the windows open.
This afternoon I'm going to take advantage of the lovely weather by bussing it to the pound shop in the shopping precinct, as there are a couple of things I'm after.

Another musical interlude

The historic building is holding an event in a couple of weekends time, and I've agreed to provide the music for it. I'll be playing until well into the evening, so I'm currently building on my repertoire. I'm planning to play music by William Byrd.
I already play lots of his small-scale pieces as well as a couple of larger ones. At the moment I'm learning pairs of pavans and galliards. There is something architectural about them. The pavans particularly are spacious and serene. The galliards are too, to a certain extent, but they necessarily move a bit faster. I can't help feeling that Byrd uses the formal structures solely to articulate his music, in much the same way as classical composers were to use the minuet & trio. I'm not sure how Byrd would have seen it, or if the idea had even occurred to him. For the event I'm thinking along the lines of of regularly spaced pavans and galliards, connected by a sequence of smaller pieces. I'm looking forward to it now.

Saturday afternoon etc

I went to the village to have a look at the gardens, and to look for a friend who had a photographic exhibition on. Typically for me I went to the wrong place (but at least it was the right town this time!), and consequently missed her. I went into one garden, but felt decidedly prickly from all the people milling around. From then on I contented myself with walking round the village and looking at front gardens. I didn't stay long and was soon back home.
Shortly after I got back my friend from uni contacted me to say he was in town, so we met up. I spent the night over at theirs, which really bucked me up. We watched Jaws (hilarious!) and I had a lovely dinner cooked for me. By now I ought to be used to the generally exotic sleeping arrangements that are made for me. This time I slept in a shed. Previously I've slept on a porch, in a garage, in the garden, in a cupboard, under a piano, just to to name a few of the new and hitherto unimagined places I've flopped down in. I slept well though, and had a really lovely time. Just like the olden days!

Them upstairs

When I got home from the historic building, I was looking forward to a rest. I was to be disappointed. There was loud reggae booming from upstairs, and the people were themselves shouting over it. All this with their windows open. In sheer despair I sat by the balcony. Shortly afterwards a large quantity of beer came pouring down over my balcony, splashing into my living room and splashing me too. AI didn't know what to do. It completely threw me. About half an hour later the same thing happened again and I could have exploded.
I calmed myself down and went and asked my next-door neighbour. It turns out they don't have a maisonette. I got that idea from seeing him at the window above mine. I felt really embarrassed afterwards. Then I went upstairs, where the door was answered by a feral-looking woman. She apologized, but appeared to be trying to suppress a smile. I told her I had no intention of making a fuss this time, but that it had better not happen again. I really hate these scenes. They do upset me.

A musical interlude

I had a lovely time harpsichording this weekend, but Sunday more than Saturday. Quite a few visitors said they had enjoyed what I played.
I wasn't looking forward to the pub. In fact I spent Sunday afternoon dreading it. It was ok once I started. There weren't many customers, but a few groups of people were up for a song, and some of them told me that they had enjoyed themselves. Some friends came in and stayed for a bit, and that did wonders for how I was feeling inside. Later on some of my favourite acquaintances came in, and we had a good laugh. One of my autistic friends came in, and we both enjoyed being very serious and getting pissed at the same time.
The landlord pitched up towards the end of the night. He took a photo and said that he'd published it on all the social media, and that I was now famous. I do hope not. I couldn't cope with that.

Moods

My mind is particularly restless lately. I wish I could turn my brain off, just for a moment or two. I go to sleep deep in thought, and wake up just the same. I know it continues during the night too, because of the millions of half-remembered thoughts I wake up with. It'll soon be time to put my professional face on, with its neutral expression. Hey ho.

Just now

I went outside to enjoy both the weather and a fag. I saw one of the superficial community on the other side of the street, so turned away until the coast was clear. Shortly afterwards one of the Sunday 'regulars' came and said hello. She was busy last Sunday so I didn't see her. She asked me if I'm going to be on tomorrow night, as she wants to come. It really cheers me up to know that someone is coming just for the songs.

Frustrated

N.I.C.E. guidelines say that people should wait no longer than three months from referral to (autism) diagnosis. In some parts of the country this is true. I wish it were true here. I have waited eighteen months so far, and still haven't even been offered an appointment. I despair at being treated so shabbily by the system. There is no-one, no-one to help me. I wonder how many other poor people are in the same boat.

Weather

We didn't have much in the way of storms yesterday. In fact we didn't really have one at all. I was really put out about it. I wanted a proper storm.
It's very warm and sunny today. Lovely! I'm going to really enjoy the gardens later. I hope it doesn't put people off coming to visit the historic building though.

More autism stuff

I've always had difficulty understanding people. In fact I still do. I often have real problems in trying to reconcile what my brain tells me, with what I see and hear. Wouldn't life be so much more manageable, if I were able to think like 'other' people?

Later on

I've got my usual harpsichording session around lunchtime. When I've finished playing I'll bus it to a local village to see their open day for gardens. I'll really like that. It'll cheer me up.

The rest of yesterday

It was raining lightly when I went to the supermarket, but I got caught in a cloudburst as I went home. Later on I watched a couple more Hitchcock films: Sabotage and Secret Agent (both from 1936).  I say I watched them, but this wasn't exactly true. I watched bits of them and spent most of the time sitting by the balcony and thinking. I turned in at ten.

Now

I've got a bit bored with the Family history stuff, so I'm going to chance the weather and go to the shops on the way home. This horrible light is affecting me, so I'm going to lie down for a bit. I really enjoy a good storm, but it's the stuff you get leading up to it that I find so unpleasant.

Weather

The storm has almost arrived. I've just been outside for a fag, and the sky looks strange. The quality of light is absolutely nauseating and there is a strange muggy heat. I saw a couple of flashes of lightening in the distance. I'm all dressed for the summer, so I expect I'll get a good soaking on the way home.

Words of wisdom

I don't at all like knowing what people say of me behind my back. It makes one far too conceited.

Scandal is gossip made tedious by morality.

Two witty quotes from the great man himself, laden with truth as usual.

The weather

It stayed nice and warm and sunny all yesterday afternoon. It's a bit cooler and cloudier today, with the occasional bit of sunshine. Apparently we are to expect thunderstorms this afternoon. We're certainly having a lot of weather this year.

Moods

I was quite edgy last night and the feeling is still with me this morning. It's nothing major. It's just that I've been thinking about lots of things lately, and it's the usual thing  of sorting, processing and adjusting. I spend many enjoyable hours looking at my little garden on the balcony. Sometimes it takes my mind off things for a moment or two. In any case it's something nice and peaceful to look at.

Last night

I watched three Alfred Hitchcock films: Number Seventeen (1932), The Skin Game (1931) and Murder! (1930). I enjoyed all three. They're good, honest, unpretentious films, with good film-sets and good acting, and so much better than the things he made in America. I turned in at eleven, a little bit later than usual. I woke up a couple of times during the night, but slept through to six this morning.

Weather update

It's beautifully sunny now, and it's getting warmer and warmer. Away from the breeze it actually feels quite hot.
 It never ceases to amaze me how bright weather improves my mental well-being. I am sensitive to light. I know that from one of my brain scans. Light is one factor in my fits. I also become depressed and feel nauseous when the quality of light is poor. I must learn one day to listen to what my body is telling me, rather than just ignoring it and carrying on as before.

Baffled, of Slough

Another online posting has made my blood boil. There will soon be an 'Autistic Pride' event, where people are to celebrate being autistic. Celebrate? Why? What is there to celebrate about it? People who are not autistic do not celebrate their non-autism, as far as I know. Why do people have to stand up wearing badges and waving banners? I don't want to be any more different from mankind in general, than I already am. I do not want to draw attention to myself. I'm certainly not brimming with pride about my autism, any more than I am ashamed of it. I am neither.  I just want to live in an inclusive world where everybody is valued. I don't want to be a special case. The whole thing makes me want to spit.

A musical interlude

I'm looking forward to my bit of harpsichording at the weekend. I hope the fine weather lasts, but I don't want it won't be too fine. We need people to visit us at the historic building, but they tend to go onto the beach instead, when the weather is too good.
I've advertised my Sunday session at the pub, but don't expect it to bring any custom in. It'll be nice to see the people I know socially, who come most Sundays. Apart from that I'm not at all excited about it.

Tearful

Online I've just seen a video of a baby goat wearing pyjamas. I didn't watch it though. I don't understand what's supposed to be even remotely funny about it. It's enough to make a grown man cry.

Them upstairs

They have been noticeably quieter of late. However I've noticed something odd. They sometimes play their music aggressively loudly for a minute or so, then turn it down to a decent volume. The same thing will happen again and again during the course of the evening. It's all very strange. At 6.50am today I heard some of that terrible music that sounds like a washing machine from a distance. It wasn't particularly loud, but the aggressive bass made my computer table vibrate, and I could feel it in through my arms and fingers. I wonder if they are testing the residents? I wonder too if the family has a history of antisocial behaviour, and whether they have been billeted on us from elsewhere? These people are getting to be right cunts.

Green fingers?

I've always enjoyed growing things, and love gardening. Also I want to have living things around me at home, so that the flat is not completely lifeless. Also I want to make the place as comfortable as possible while I am there. Lately I've been turning my tiny balcony into a garden. It started with a few pinks in troughs, but I've been gradually adding plants. Give it a month or two and it will look like Babylon. Luckily plants can be had quite cheaply where I live, as it's positively rural compared to London.
I'm thinking again about the alleged therapeutic qualities of pets to autistic people. I detest pets, and would much rather see wild animals in the wild. I think that plants have the same affect on me as pets do to many other autistic people.

Just now

I've been in touch with one of my cousins. My new cousins are becoming a lovely part of my life. I feel as if I'm getting to know them, and I like the people I've found. Apart from their sense of humour, I really appreciate their intelligence. Intelligent conversations in my family have been a rarety until now. I'm hoping that one of the cousins will come down to visit me in August.

The news

I have just read, with great sadness, that a man has been executed in Texas. I don't know the ins and outs of the story, nor do I care. Murder is murder, whether committed by individuals or governments. Two wrongs do not make a right. Capital punishment is barbaric and mediaeval.

The weather

The weather improved throughout the afternoon and finished fine and warm. Summer has arrived today (at least I hope so). The weather forecasters were right after all. They predicted the right weather, but on the wrong day, as usual.

Last night

I had a lovely meal, very simple but not exactly requiring sweated labour to prepare. I had a boiled ham hock, and there's enough meat left to keep me going for today and tomorrow. Afterwards I watched Blackmail (1929), the first talking picture that Hitchcock made. I turned in at just after ten, and slept through to five this morning. I woke up feeling much less tired than I have done lately.

Tonight

Home now, via the shops. I fancy cooking when I get home, so I'll see what they've got. I expect I'll watch another of the early Alfred Hitchcock films tonight. I'll also try and calm down from earlier.

Earlier on

We had very few visitors at the historic house today (three plus two plus one, a total of six). I enjoyed playing too, particularly as the weather had improved so much on this morning. One lady liked my playing, so my time there wasn't wasted.
I went to the workhouse afterwards. It was just as horrible as I'd expected. The person talking was right-in-yer-face. She talked continuously for over an hour. It did my head in, and after a short while I didn't actually hear what she was saying. All I heard was her voice. I felt very agitated and tense. Then she called people out individually, and muggins was first. She didn't say why she called me (a big mistake; I didn't feel like co-operating), but it turned out that we had to introduce ourselves. I felt sick and upset afterwards, and my head started to pound.
During the break one of the workhouse staff saw me in the corridor, and told me I could leave. I didn't want telling twice.
The 'employer' of free labour is looking for happy, smiley, gregarious people to operate the rides and show people around. I'm definitely not the right person for that. The very idea of it fills me with dread. I wouldn't last five minutes.

A musical interlude

This is a picture of William Byrd (1540-1623). I didn't know much about him, or about his music, until I played a pavane and galliard of his for my performance diploma. It was wonderful to play them. Although wrapped up in the formal structures of those respective dance forms, the writing is both expressive and idiomatic. His use of tonality is also striking, being neither completely modal nor completely major-minor. It moves between the two. He was influential in his day too, and his keyboard music influenced Jan Petersoon Sweelinck, who was a direct influence on JS Bach through Schutz, Scheidt and Schein. Most of what I play at the historic building is by Byrd. I've really warmed to his keyboard music, and our visitors seem to like it too.

Weather

Yesterday's weather was weird. A ridiculously strong wind blew all day, making it feel cold. It stayed overcast and drizzly all day, with no sign of the sun until it brightened up just before nightfall. It was much brighter this morning, but it keeps clouding over. I wonder if the heat-wave we were promised for today, and which has now been postponed until Saturday, will actually happen.

News

One of today's headlines concerns an Australian tourist who was tossed in the air several times by a bison. Serves the person right. He or she has no business upsetting wild animals. Why can't people just leave the poor wildlife alone, instead of exploiting it for financial gain?

Later on

After having to curtail this morning's harpsichord session, I am going to the workhouse to attend another volunteering drive. I already give three days of my week to voluntary work. I think it's just a way for employers to get free labour.
This time it's a local tourist attraction who are on the prowl. It's just about the most inappropriate thing I can think of. I can't work near flashing lights or machinery because of the fits. I can't manage people, noise, crowds at all well, which are part of my autism. What the fuck are they thinking of?

This morning

I felt tired and drowsy over my coffee and fags. I felt a bit peculiar at one point, and thought I was going to have another of my 'episodes'. I am so thankful that it didn't happen. A bit later I fed the plants on the balcony before coming to the library. I do feel tired.

Sleep

I went to bed at ten past ten and slept quite badly. I remember being awake three times during the night, deep in thought and with the ribs hurting. I got up at half past five this morning, having been lying awake thinking for a good while.

Last night

I spent some time punching in the latest family history stuff, so dinner was a bit late. Afterwards I watched Alfred Hitchcock's Jamaica Inn (1939), as I've been thinking about Cornwall. The films that Hitchcock made before he moved to America are, by my reckoning, his best. They are stylish and the acting is very good, and they don't rely too much on special effects. That's just as well really, as the special effects are rather primitive (eg. the helicopter in The 39 Steps) and the train going into the sea in Number 17).

Around town

People aren't the same. I see some people around and avoid them. There are others who acknowledge me but something is different. I wish they wouldn't do so for the sake of it, and I hope they don't. I can't really tell, so I don't particularly feel like looking on the bright side for now. Some people are noticeably different nowadays. That's a pity, but it isn't the end of the world.
Some of my social acquaintances sort of say things without actually saying them. Occasionally something is let slip. Never mind. I'm so glad I've moved on, and even gladder still that I know what's what.

Earlier on

I was told something earlier. I really don't know why the person told me. The news was that someone I know had been taken to hospital very ill. On the one hand I'm very sorry about that. I certainly don't wish either illness or misfortune upon anyone. On the other hand this was someone whose persistent, in-your-face talking used to make me feel ill, and drove me on many occasions to the point of exploding. So I'm not all tea and sympathy about it. The truth is I don't particularly care.

Tonight

I don't know what I'm going to watch later. I don't think I could possibly manage another Stewart Granger film yet. I've got plenty of films to choose from. The trouble is I know most of them word for word. Oh well, it doesn't really matter. I enjoy my films.

Just now

I've just been harvesting more names and dates for the family tree. At the same time I've been nattering online with two of my cousins. I really enjoy hearing from them. Also, who said I can't multi-task?

Good news (I hope)

I was talking to one of the volunteers at the historic building where I play. He is a younger person who has been diagnosed with ASD. We get on like a house on fire. He told me he knows of a GP who he thinks can help me get a diagnosis much more quickly than the two to three years I currently have to wait. I do hope he is right. That would be such a load off my mind. I hope it's not just all talk. I hope he wouldn't be that cruel.

A musical interlude

I did a bit of harpsichording for our visitors earlier on, so, unusually for a Tuesday, I'm all togged up in a suit and tie. The students reminded me of the university I graduated at; unwashed, uncouth, glued to their mobiles, and probably very badly read (if, indeed, they actually do bother to read anything at all).

Weather

The weather has been peculiar this year. The longest day of the year is just around the corner, yet it seems more like February (apart from the longer daylight hours). We were supposed to be expecting a heatwave by tomorrow. As usual the weather forecast has changed, and we don't now expect it until the weekend. Bloody weather forecasts. money for old rope.

Further evidence

When I checked the mousetrap this morning, I found another late rodent caught in it. I understand it had planned on having peanut butter for supper, but in the end it had to make do with a broken neck instead. Dead mice are a revolting sight, and I feel upset and cross with myself for having killed them.

Yesterday and first thing this morning

I spent an hour or so at the library collecting more names and dates for the family tree. Afterwards I collected my keyboard from the pub and plugged in the data I had just collected.
After dinner I watched a Stewart Granger comedy with the strange title Woman Hater (1948). It was even more tedious than I had remembered. After that I watched three playlets from Noel Coward's Tonight at 8.30; Hands Across The Sea, Shadow Play and Ways and Means, the latter being the best of the three in my opinion. I turned in at twenty past ten.
I think I slept well, in that I don't remember waking up at all during the night. I got up at six this morning feeling quite miserable. I know I must have dreamed a lot, as I had lots of images and half-remembered ideas going round in my head when I woke up. The feeling has almost gone now.

Dahn the pub

I've just walked down to collect my keyboard, and was surprised at first to find the front door padlocked, when it should have opened an hour ago. My surprise vanished after I though about it, as the poor bar staff work such terribly long shifts.
This week the pub put out a visitors book. I read the comments yesterday, nearly all of which were by local residents. All said how lovely the staff were, and said the place was nice. One or two grumbled about the beer, and all the comments without exception were scathing about the landlord. That's a pity. I don't know why people feel the need to get so personal. That visitors book is not a good idea, and I think it'll have to go.
I'll pop back again later on for the keyboard.

Tonight

It's going to be a quiet one as usual, with pretty much (or probably exactly) the same things as I usually do. but that's fine. I can live with that sort of uncomplicated life.  I know I have my moods to contend with, but it's all relatively trouble free. At least the only botherations I get are the ones I give myself, and not those given me by others.

How am I?

The ribs haven't settled down completely, and I still get some discomfort during the night and first thing in the morning. I had a bit of a bumpy night last night. I turned over a lot, and had one episode of lying awake and thinking during the night. Apart from that I think I'm ok.

Peace and quiet

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n03g8nsaBro


Three of the most annoying regulars have turned up at the library. Skinny, short bearded gormless man, tall, fat gormless woman, and Mr daft-as-a-brush-with-vacant-expression. All three are loud and talk incessantly. They really ought to be banned from the library. I can still hear 'em clearly with the earplugs in. How are people supposed to be able to think? Grrrrrrr.

The living planet

I see lots of articles online, describing how pets can be beneficial to autistic people. I really dislike pets of any description. It's not only their unsavoury habits that I find off-putting. I don't like the way they get up close to one, and do all the slobbering and lovey-dovey stuff. They invariably have the most atrocious breaths, generally smelling of whatever they licked last. They are veritable holiday camps for vermin, and are disease-ridden. They are crafty and manipulative. I simply don't understand what is supposed to be so appealing about them. I think I must be the odd one out, as usual.

A lovely surprise

Someone made contact with me this morning. Once upon a time we were very close friends, that is until he moved to the other side of the world some quarter of a century ago. I have always found it hard to keep in contact with people, and I now understand that this tendency is extremely common among people with autism. It wasn't that I didn't think of him. In fact I think about him very often. It's just that I get so busy with my thoughts that I just don't get round to writing. I'm really very happy that he has made contact. He's one of the loveliest people I know. I will always remember the kindness and friendship he showed me, which at the time were a completely new experience for me.

Wildlife on one

The mousetrap hasn't caught any more victims since the other day, and I have found no further evidence of the rodents. I can't believe that the one I killed the other day was living completely on its own. I wonder if the colony is elsewhere in the building, and that that particular mouse was the only one to prowl in my flat. I'm going to leave the trap set as a matter of course from now on.