Now

Screaming baby time, so time to go. Why do they always have to sit near me? Cunts.

Getting things off my chest

While I was at the balcony this morning I got thinking about life. In my mind I am the same person I always was, only with a lot more hindsight. I now truly realise that I am old. When I look back, I do wonder what happened between my childhood and now. What happened to the years between?
I also thought about something I read yesterday. It was written by an autistic person whose writings I follow. Usually he talks about his life as an autist, but yesterday he spoke of the physical deformities that I never realised he had. That has given me the courage to expunge a ghost or two of my own.
I am very sensitive about my top half. You see I have a curvature of the spine. I also have a very small rib cage, which has rotated clockwise by about twenty degrees as a result of the curvature. The left 'corner' of my ribs is in front of me to the left, and some of the 'side' is to the front. I have fractured my ribs at least three times that I remember. I also think I probably fractured them again when I had a fit last year; I fell against a metal clothes-horse and crashed down with it to the floor. My ribs are consequently very bumpy. And to cap it all I'm pigeon-chested. I try to hide all this as much as possible by wearing dark tops, and looser than I really need. Oh well, that's that.

Since last night

I only woke up once during the night, and that was for the usual sprint. I suppose that must be to do with my age. I got up at a quarter past seven this morning, feeling very drugged. I do hate those tablets, except for the fact I now sleep properly of a night.
It was the usual fags and coffee at the balcony, and then straight up to the library. I shall be making my way to the historic building shortly, so I can do some practice before we open.

Yesterday

I went and did some very useful practice. I was getting stuck with the codetta bits in the Chopin, but I'm starting to make progress. After I'd finished practicing, I went home and polished the lavatory floor. Ain't I exciting? Afterwards I cooked and enjoyable curry for dinner, watched a few more episodes of the World At War, and turned in at about half past nine. The gits upstairs were quietish again, apart from a few loud bangs and the occasional stampede.

A bit of levity

I couldn't help noticing the similarity.

The rest of today

I shall be wandering off shortly. After I've finished practicing I shall go straight home for another of my English teas. During the afternoon I'll give the loo floor another coat of polish. After that it'll be an ordinary sort of evening; dinner and dvds I expect.
By the way the things upstairs are due in court next week. Fingers crossed it shouldn't be too long before we've seen the back of them. I hope my letter to their landlady will go some way towards getting them out.

Now

There is no visible evidence of all the ant bites i got yesterday. My hands and arms are still a bit sore though, but I'm sure that'll soon pass. Later on this morning I'm off to the historic building, to do some more work on the Chopin. It really does sound very scruffy. There are still bits of it I can't manage, but a couple of weeks ago I couldn't play any of it.
I've just been outside for a fag, and while I was there I started thinking about music-making. There are some people who have been taught for a very long time, and play to a very high standard. There are others who, although they have been taught for a very long time, do not play well. Some people are self-taught, and always play very badly, thinking that what they play is much better than it really is. And then there are others who are self taught, but play to a very high standard. I still don't play as well as I would like, but I set very high standards for myself. And I am capable of playing very well indeed, which for me is quite an achievement.

Since last night

It didn't take me long to fall asleep, so I must have been tired. I only remember waking up once during the night, when I needed a quick sprint. Up at a quarter to eight this morning. I hurried the fags and coffee while enjoying the flowers and warm morning from the balcony. Now I'm back at the library.

Yesterday afternoon

After I'd finished at the allotment, I took two buses to get to the out-of-town shopping precinct. In the supermarket I found my favourite tea, Darjeeling, and a few goodies to go with it. When I got home, I had a nice cuppa with buttered crumpets and jam tarts. I had forgotten what an enjoyable experience and English tea can be. Afterwards I got to work on the kitchen and lavatory floors, and gave them a clean and a polish. I want to give the loo a second coat of polish, but I'll do that this afternoon. I had liver and bacon for dinner. I hadn't had liver for at least twenty years and it seemed a bit strange. I ate it though, aling with my entire bean crop (one dwarf bean and seven pods of broad beans) and some lovely new potatoes, and four runner beans, the latter two items were grown by my friends. After two episodes of the World At War I went to bed at about nine, to the sound of the kids upstairs occasionally stamping around.

Down on the farm

Full of good intention, I arrived at the allotment mid-morning. I did start to do the weeding, but found myself getting repeatedly stung by the numerous nettle seedlings. I stopped for a moment and noticed that my left arm and leg were starting to feel uncomfortable, and like an idiot I though it was something to do with the stinging nettles. When I eventually had a look there were lines of red ants running up and down my arm and leg, and biting me as they went. I had evidently disturbed their nest. I shook all the little buggers of, and decided to do some watering instead. Then it was straight up the lane to the bus stop.

Since last night

I think I slept soundly, and got up at half past six this morning feeling very drowsy. The weather is sunnier than yesterday but quite cool. After the fags and coffee, and having watered the plants on the balcony, it was straight up to the library. I shall be going to the allotment very shortly. I had intended to go yesterday but was too tired for that.

Yesterday

I had a dire session at the historic building. I felt thoroughly exhausted by the time I finished, so I took myself home, made a bed on the sofa, and spent the rest of the day there. I may have fallen asleep but I'm not sure, as my mind was in full throttle throughout. I did get up to make some dinner, and to put on some dvds of the World At War. Bed at just after nine.
Upstairs were mostly quiet, but there were some disgraceful moments. Apart from the kids, there was one occasion when what sounded like a heavy item of furniture being dropped, crashed on the ceiling above my head.

This morning

I got up at seven feeling very grumpy indeed. I had planned to go to the shopping precinct for some of the nice tea I like. I bought some about three years ago. I drink it so rarely; that;s why it has lasted so long. Now I'm back at the library. I'm making a move soon, as I shall be playing in a short while. I want to have another go at the Chopin before I start.

Sleep

Although I had taken my tablets, the noise outside kept me awake. I just couldn't settle down so I got up for a fag. When I checked the time it was gone eleven. The kids were still running around. Afterwards I stumbled and lurched( the effect of the tablets) back to bed. I fell asleep some time afterwards.

Yesterday

When I left the library I noticed that there were staff at the historic building, so I went in and worked on the Chopin. After that it was home for dinner, but I didn't have the quiet evening I had hoped for. There were some rowdy drinkers in the alley next to my flats, and they got increasingly louder and rowdier as the evening progressed. I watched a few episodes of the World At War before turning in at half past nine. By this time the kids upstairs had started stampeding around.

In the news

Two of this morning's headlines have caught my attention. The first concerns a centre for the disabled in Japan, where a large number of residents have been knifed to death. The attacker had previously worked at the institution. The other report is of a hostage-taking at a church near Rouen. The hostage-takers have been shot dead, but there is no further information. I shouldn't have read the news this morning. It really is depressing.

This morning

The weather was warm and sunny, but not too hot, when I got up at half past six. While I had the fags and coffee my mind was in full swing, darting from one though to another in rapid succession. I don't remember most of what I was thinking about. All I remember is thinking about bits and pieces of strange dreams. I'm up at the library now, ready for a meeting with my support worker a little bit later on.

Yesterday

I made the curry for dinner, but had lost all interest in it by the time it was cooked. Afterwards I watched a film I've had for years but never watched; Le Retour de Martin Guerre. It was very good. The people upstairs were quiet all evening, apart from some noisy outbursts. The brats piped up just as I went to bed at nine, running around with raised voices, the little girl giving out screams. It didn't keep me awake though. The tablet saw to that.

Later on

I'm having a curry for dinner. Unusually I'm not cooking one because I can't be bothered with anything else. I'm having it because I fancy one, what with the very warm weather.
I hope this evening will be a peaceful one, but I fear it won't. The people upstairs, should they be in residence, are going to have their windows open.
By the way, while I think about it, I would like to clear up a small matter of pronunciation The correct pronunciations of the nouns scone, chimney and Greenwich are skon, chimly and Grinnidge. This information is for the benefit of, and the education of interested parties.

In the meanwhile

I couldn't practice for very long. The Chopin is starting to come back, but the left-hand part has become painful to play since my operation. The wrist started to swell so I called it a day. Afterwards I wandered up to the foreign supermarket to get some more stuff for the freezer. Once that was done I spent some time at home, reading bits and pieces from Mayhew. I eventually got bored, so went up to the supermarket to see what was being sold off. Now I'm back at the library.

In general

I'm much better with the housework now, than I've ever been. I'm almost obsessive about it and the place is spotless. I think my mental health is starting to improve, as I've now decided it's time I stocked up the freezer.
Yesterday someone I know (very slightly) who lives abroad came to hear me play. They did arrange to come for tea later that afternoon, but neither turned up nor contacted me. That did my head in a bit.

This morning

I got up at half past six to a very warm morning, and took my time with the fags and coffee. Then it was up to the supermarket; yesterday I bought some frozen Indian vegetables at a very cheap price. They had five packets on display, but I only had enough for two once I'd done the rest of my shopping. There was I first thing this morning, buying the other three packets. That'll keep me going for a while. I'm going to the historic building very shortly, as someone will be there to let me in. I want to practice the Chopin that I'm playing next month.

The weekend

We had hot, sunny weather all weekend, so I was surprised that we had so many visitors at the historic building. Usually people bugger off down to the beach instead when it's hot like this. I had two decent days. After I'd finished playing I went and got things for the freezer. You'd be surprised at what miracles I can perform with a pound of mince. I can get more meals out of it, than a certain biblical person could get out of some bread and fish.
The evenings were quiet, both upstairs and down. On Saturday I watched the last part of Rameau's Castor Et Pollux, which was very enjoyable indeed. Yesterday I watched Hitchcock's Vertigo, and the accompanying documentary. It's a very disturbing film, and very strange.

Since bedtime

It was another warm night. I did manage to sleep in a short time, but got woken up by some noise outside. I soon fell asleep again but kept waking up, noticing how warm it still was.
Up at six this morning, and took my time with fags and coffee at the balcony. I had the aphid spray handy, and took pot-shots at the buggers whenever I saw them. Then it was up to the library for a quick session on the computer, before my harpsichording gets underway. The weather is beautiful today, bright, warm and sunny.

Yesterday

I went home from the library feeling rather listless and despondent, in anticipation of another dull evening with a noisy background. I sat down at the computer to play cards, and put on some Bach harpsichord concertos as a distraction. No sooner had I sat down than I was contacted by my best friend, whose brother's birthday it was. As quick as a flash I was down the pub to join them. I was fully expecting to stay for half an hour or so, but I stayed all afternoon, following them to another pub a bit further along the front. Then I joined them for dinner at an Indian restaurant. The food wasn't as I had expected, but it was thoroughly enjoyable nonetheless. I can't find the words of thanks for being treated treated like this when my own means are so meagre. Home at a quarter to nine, a quick fag and then straight to bed.

And finally

It's really getting warm again, but the cool breeze makes it feel very comfortable. I'm a bit bored with the computer now, so I'll go home for the final time today. I hope this evening won't be too cunt-infested.

Thinking

While I was having the fags and coffee earlier, I looked at the balcony and started thinking about something completely different from what I saw. Current affairs. Not so very long ago we were saturated with reports of atrocities committed by a religious group in the Middle East. Now we see hardly any such reports. What can that mean? Does it mean that the group no longer carries out atrocities, or does it mean that the State broadcaster no longer reports them? One supposes the latter. The broadcaster chooses, for whatever reason, not to tell us. What it does report, however, are such stories as the engagement of an in-law of a member of the royal family, a sob story about a vicious dog that is to be put down, and the usual rubbish about football. Is this really good journalism? Is it fair and unbiased, or towing the Government line, or censoring the news on its own initiative. I suppose we will never know. It does leave one feeling very concerned.

In the meanwhile

I took myself home and, needless to say, couldn't really settle down. I looked for any housework that needed doing, but couldn't find any. I started thinking about what I wrote earlier, and realised something; I feel like a layer of 'inner grime' is starting to shift. How long either the manual or inner stuff carries on remains to be seen. I want to try my utmost to make sure the momentum continues forward.

Today

My weather forecast for yesterday was inaccurate, as usual. There was no thunderstorm. Instead it turned hazy and cooler, and that coolness has continued into today. The temperature is much more comfortable than it was the other day. In a moment or two I shall take myself home, and spend the rest of the day there.

A change of mind

I've become almost obsessive about housework. Rather than dreading it and putting it off for as long as I possibly can, I now want to do it. I particularly enjoy polishing the kitchen and bathroom floors. I've been going round and doing a bit every morning before I come to the library.

Last night

I was on edge when I went to bed. Although I had taken my tablet, it took me ages to get to sleep. I don't remember waking up during the night, but I have memories of frequent bad dreams. Up at six this morning, feeling tired and very drugged.

Yesterday

I went home and did some housework. Then it was curry for dinner. My evening was marred by my lovely upstairs neighbours. The adults sounded like they were getting pissed. The first part of the evening was the kids shouting and screaming, either by the window or out of it. It went quietish for a bit, but there were very loud outbursts throughout the evening. I did try watching a performance of Rameau's Castor Et Pollux, but it was more a case of stop, start with the remote control. Later on Madam decided to do some hoovering, banging and crashing and knocking things over. My head felt funny, so I called it a day and went to bed at ten to nine.

Thinking

When I was at the balcony this morning, I noticed a woman calling her dog, a huge, great lump of a thing with an enormous head and vicious-looking jaws. It appartently went by the name of Phyllis. Phyllis!!!!! What a fucking ridiculous name for an animal.
The people upstairs had some cunty intervals throughout the evening, but there were periods of quietness in between. The thought of those people leaving very shortly cheers me up no end.

The rest of today

The sky has gone a funny colour, overcast, hazy and glowing very brightly. I think we're going to have a thunderstorm before long. I don't feel like doing anything, so I expect I'll spend the rest of the day at home.

Today

I woke up at five this morning, desperately needing a quick dash along the corridor. I soon got back to sleep though, and finally got up at eight. I did feel drugged to begin with. I took my time with the fags and coffee, and gave the balcony a good watering. When I got to the library the computers were out of action, so I read until they came back on.

Yesterday

I had a different sort of Wednesday. I woke up at my friend's house, and had the fags and coffee in the garden. The weather started hot and sultry, and became oppressively hot as the day wore on. I was driven home and treated myself to a bath. Then it was on to the historic building. I didn't enjoy my session. I felt grumpy and out of sorts with the heat, and very few people listened to me.
After I finished playing I went home ready for the landlord's visit. A workman duly arrived and went to have a look at my damaged bathroom ceiling. Then he was on the blower, agreeing with the landlord the work he was going to do. He's not going to re-decorate the bathroom. I'm quite relieved, as I don't like having other people in my flat. I think that's why I feel as I do at home. Instead he's just going to touch up the damaged bits. I am re-assured by the knowledge that the ceiling won't come down.
After a boring pasta dinner, I watched a few genealogy documentaries, before turning in at nine.

A public safety announcement

Or to put it another way, 'Don't leave hot dogs in cars'.

Since earlier

I got to my friend's at around one o'clock this afternoon. It has been a sweltering hot afternoon. There wasn't even the slightest hint of a breeze, so the sun really did beat down on one. It was far too hot to go to the allotment, so we stayed indoors. We went out very briefly, though, to sample the beverages in the village pub. I cooked the dinner, simple but rather enjoyable. Mind you, my food always tastes nicer here than at home.
This evening we watched a very interesting documentary about the fauna of New Zealand. I was thrown completely off track when I felt something land in my left ear. Then I heard a nastily familiar buzzing noise, then I saw a mosquito the size of a vulture flying away. That was that. I took myself into the garden for a fag. There is a beautiful, blue twilight, and Mars is clearly visible. I'm off to bed shortly, but not before I've had my last fag of the day.

In a nutshell

This is pretty much how it is, most of the time.

Groan

And he's still droning away on the blower. The fucking moron always comes here just to make phone calls. I am not even remotely interested in other people's tales of woe. I don't give a stuff, when it's being inflicted on me. Selfish cunt.

Now

When I got to the library, I made a beeline straight for the quiet area. The good start was not to last. Now it is endless phone conversations in my right ear. Bollocks.

On reflection

I've been thinking about current events. I remember all the stuff we are told constantly about 'British Values'. These are said to include fairness, decency, tolerance and generosity. I think of how the present administration has treated the disabled. I think about the recent referendum, where people voted as a result of prejudice against immigration. I think of the xenophobia that some of the national press whipped up at the time. To me it has been patently obvious for some time, that these 'British Values' are a complete myth. In fact they are a complete load of bollocks.
I am also thinking about the government minister who resigned last week. He made a big point of giving out about his devout Christian morality, while at the same time doing his utmost to punish the disabled. Meanwhile he sits on the board of a mental health charity. That in itself should have brought him down, but it didn't. What brought him down was the scandal of some rather un-Christian, in fact rather unsavoury messages, with which he had been pestering a woman. It is a damning indictment of this country, that a person's sexual pecadillos are considered more important than their aggressive behaviour towards vulnerable people. So much for Christian values. Some people wear them as a mask, but sooner or later the mask is bound to slip.

Today

The weather started off hot when I got up at seven this morning. It has got increasingly hotter since then. I think this afternoon will be a scorcher. Unusually I have no appointments during the day. I'll go to my best friend's around lunchtime, as we're going to weed the allotment. Then this evening it'll be the mathematical shenanigans, and I'm going to cook one of my minced meat concoctions. I'll stay there overnight.

Yesterday

The visitors from Chernobyl arrived, were shown around the house, and danced to an English jig. I had a quiet afternoon at home. I did feel very tired, and had a couple of hours' sleep in the armchair. Dinner was a rescued bolognese sauce from the freezer, but I enjoyed it. In the evening I watched a documentary about Rameau's Les Indes Galantes, and watched a performance of Les Fleurs, the fourth entree. Bed at a quarter past nine.
The gits upstairs were generally quieter than usual, but there were some shocking, noisy episodes. I had to keep stopping what I was watching until things quietened down. The kids were very loud after I went to bed, but I was beyond caring. Besides I had already taken my tablet, which knocked me out in minutes.

The rest of today

It's a bit on the hot side again, but there's a lovely cool breeze today. In a moment I'm going to take myself home and have a quiet afternoon. I think it'll be spaghetti for dinner. I don't fancy cooking (or eating) anything too extravagant.

So far

I've had a busy morning. First point of call was the library, to email pictures of last Friday's flood to my landlord and the cunts upstairs' landlord. Then it was on to a meeting with my support worker. She got the Parish sorted out. She is also after my doctor, but is picking her moment. She is also going to get my care worker at the funny farm changed. as the person is every bit as incompetent as I had suspected ("she's a fat tart"). After that I was at the historic building for a while, doing my stuff for the party of kids from Chernobyl. It evidently went down well.

Yesterday

The weather was hot and sultry all day and all night. The people upstairs were at home, but were very quiet indeed. It just goes to show that when they are noisy, they know they are being noisy. I think their outrageous conduct is quite deliberate.
During the day I hjad a reasonable session at the historic building. After (yet another) curry dinner, I watched a documentary about Rameau's opera Les Boreades. Bed at half past nine.

Today

I've got a different sort of morning. For one thing I am not at home. And I'm going for breakfast. That's two different things. Afterwards I need to go home and change, ready for my session at the historic building. Very stupidly I forgot to bring my tablets with me, so I shall have to take them as soon as I get in. Isn't aging fun!!

A question

Why do I write my blog? I am sure that much of what I write must seem very banal, to those of you who don't know me.  Just like many other autistic adults I live alone. My life goes largely unrecorded, and when I die I will soon be forgotten, except by those very few people I have become close to. That is how I would want it.
In any case I live mostly inside my own head. That is where my 'world' is. My life is an endless stream of thoughts, many of which are triggered by everyday events and occurrences. I suspect that my lifestyle has much in common with that of other independent, autistic adults. I hope that those who live in isolation may find something in my writings that they can relate to. That is one reason why I write it. Another reason is that I want to make a record of my thoughts. In general I live a very ordinary, unremarkable life, but I do have my moments.

Now

I had a nice, peaceful evening, which was a complete and welcome change from what I usually get. I enjoyed a nice bottle of wine too; the one I left behind on holiday. Bed at half past ten. I dreamed a lot, and woke up a lot during the night. I'm not really surprised though, as last night was hot and very stuffy. Up at half past five this morning, and had my coffee in the garden. The seagulls were very boisterous early on. I'm also taking advantage of the time by sitting at the computer. It's very rarely that I'm able to get to a computer of a Sunday.

A thought

I'm going to see my support worker on Monday, to get the Parish sorted out. While I am there, I will suggest changing my doctor. Given I am autistic, I think I really need a doctor who actually understands what it means. I can't be doing with other people's cultural values being inflicted on me. What I also can't be doing with is institutional maltreatment, whether by the medical profession or by the Parish. I've really had more than enough it, and am now spoiling for a fight. I want to be treated properly; nothing more, nothing less.

The news

Horror upon horror, both nationally and internationally. Very depressing and very, very sad.

Musical stuff and that

I have been working hard on some more of the Rameau pieces. I've now got Menuets 1 & 2, La Poule, Les Triolets and Les Sauvages (from the 'Nouvelles Suites) under my thumb. I'm rather pleased, since until now I'd always thought them beyond my capabilities.
I'm feeling a lot nicer now. I had another nosebleed early this afternoon. Whether that has to do with the hot & humid weather, or whether it's stress-related I really couldn't say. I still feel very tired, but the atrocious headache has started to go.
Talking of Les Sauvages, I can't wait for those awful people upstairs to go. When they do go, I feel like doing cartwheels all round the flats, and kissing everyone (within reason) that I encounter on the way.

Now

Here I am using my friend's computer, at what is, for me, a very unusual hour. This morning I wrote to the upstairs neighbour's landlady, describing my ordeal. She has emailed back, thanking me for what I wrote, and saying she will produce my letter as evidence when the case comes to court. (The lady is trying to evict my neighbours because of their antisocial behaviour).  I hope my letter will help to boot them out.

More recently

My dinner was nearly cooked when I had a call from my best friend, inviting me over. So I gollopped my dinner down, clean t-shirt and straight out of the door. The bus journey was straightforward today. I had a nice surprise on the bus, when on got two of my ere-time fans got on with their autistic son. Of course we all recognised each other and nattered all the way to my destination. He's a really nice kid, although largely non-verbal. He's apparently been studying art at college, learning to play the guitar, and is about to start working. Good for him. I'm really pleased about it.

In between

I enjoyed my time at the historic building. Playing in period costume is fun! I hope I don't look  too much like Widow Twankey. We've had quite a few German visitors lately, and they always appreciate it when I speak to them in German. Actually my grammar and pronunciation are shit hot. I could do wth some more up-to-date vocabulary though.
When I got home I wanted some more pictures to put up. I found two clip-boards, decades old but unwrapped until today. I found two favourite photos from my days as an undergraduate, and up they went. Then I got the dinner on.

In general

I had a really dreadful evening. Them upstairs, so loud that I couldn't watch a film. I won't bore you with all the awful details. They got pissed, left the bath running and flooded my bathroom and airing cupboard. Last night I contacted their landlady. The good news is that they are in court the first week of August. I've sent her an email to use as evidence of the behaviour that's made my evenings so intolerable. Last night there was a bulge in the bathroom ceiling. That worried me, and in consequence I slept very badly. The bulge has gone down now, but I'll need to ask the landlord to have a look at it. I'm so worn out today that I forgot to put the photos on my memory stick. I'll have to send them on Monday, and notify the landlord at the same time. As if I haven't already got enough to worry about. This morning I overslept very badly. Sitting at the balcony I heard the brat scream. The mother bawled out 'Stop screaming like that, bitch', which prompted it to throw a tantrum. I'm about to go to the historic building feeling like shit.

Now

The brain is going like the clappers. A mixture of excitement, relief, self-satisfaction (to a certain extent), apprehension, anxiety, frustration, anger, happiness, eager expectation and fearing the inevitable. And this is all at once. Oh the joys of being autistic. A first-class intellect, shitloads of ability, and thoughts out of control.

In the meanwhile

After a quick dash to the foreign supermarket, I took myself straight home. The weather is bright and sunny, and feeling rather hot. Just after I sat down, today's post dropped through the letter box. Guess what? Yep. You got it. The fucking Parish again. Cunts. Soon afterwards I had the conversation that I'd been building up for. I handled it very well. No acrimony. When that was done I brought myself back to the library, to email the latest in a barrage of missives to my support worker. She must be getting sick and tired of me, poor cow.

Today

I have been thinking long and hard, and am going to take some decisive action to make my life better. I'm not much good at that sort of thing, but it needs to be done. I won't find it easy, but I'm pleased with myself for summoning up the resolve to do it.

Thinking

I've been going over in my mind something that my support worker said yesterday, and that has just registered. She recalled our doctor's appointment the other day. She told me that she had gone over what the doctor said. I can't actually remember what he had said. She told me that the doctor had misinformed us, and that she found him totally obstructive. She is arranging an appointment with the practice manager to complain. Can you see what a big help this lady is being to me? I wouldn't have known to do that. I would have accepted what the doctor said, because he is the doctor. The time for the system to start treating me properly is now long overdue.

In general

I got up at half past six this morning and had a nosebleed. Then it was fags and coffee by the balcony. Afterwards it was straight up to the library, where I learned of the dreadful event in France. The news. It's just awful. One horror after another. After my hour at the computer I shall spend the rest of the day at home. No appointments today, for a change.

More of the same

When I got home yesterday I received another one of those horrible letters from the parish. My support worker has just come to see me about it. She is sending it to her contact at the workhouse. While she was here we decided that I am indeed going to appeal against the outcome of my recent medical examination by the parish apothecary. It will mean attending a tribunal (gulp), but I've already been put through so much. I am going to put up a fight. Cunts.

In general

I'm very tired, so shan't be writing very much today. Last night was pasta followed by the Rameau documentary, and performances of In Convertendo and three of the Pieces de clavecin en concerts. Bed at ten. The people upstairs was a cunt.
Earlier on I did the workshop for three separate groups of primary school students. Someone in the second group pinched the £1 coin out of my cap, and someone in the third group pinched the cap. You couldn't make it up. They enjoyed themselves though, and were all up for the dancing and playing the tambourine. The weather was hot and sunny, and they ate their packed lunches in the garden. An autistic boy and I latched on to each other, and I got him playing my keyboard. The kid was obviously very bright, and asked me if I would give him piano lessons. I asked his teacher to try and sort out some lessons for him.
When I got home I hanged my few pictures on the wall. I had thought that my tenancy contract forbade me from doing so. It was only when the landlord's agent came to inspect the flat that I found out to the contrary. It has put my mind at rest, as the pictures all mean something to me. My mum's photo used to lie on its back in the hall, and I did feel very uncomfortable about that.

Tomorrow

I've got a busy one at the historic building. We have three parties of schoolkids between 9.30am and about 2.30pm. Each group will require one of my workshops. It'll be fun alright, but I'll need to pace myself.
On Monday we're expecting some very poorly children from Chernobyl, who are coming here for a holiday. The original plan was for them to have lunch in the garden, but that has changed. We were told today that they are to eat elsewhere. What a shame.

Them upstairs

They have been more than usually horrible of late. I have been told that last weekend was bad. It's been bad this week too. The fucking kid keeps shouting out of the window. I'm almost hoping that the bloody thing will fall from it.

Later on

When I finish at the computer, I'm going straight to the landlord to settle the small amount I owe on this month's rent. I am so relieved that I am still on time, and not late. Then I'll be off to the Indian supermarket for one or two things, then the foreign supermarket and then home. I think I shall enjoy the bus ride, as the afternoon weather has turned sunny and warm. This evening will, I hope, be quite unremarkable. I've had quite enough 'excitement' over these past five months, thank you.

Today, so far

I woke up with the hump, and brooded while I had the fags and coffee. The balcony looks lovely now, but it didn't do anything to cheer me up. I did a few last-minute bits to the flat and then played card games on the computer. The landlord's agent turned up nice and early, so I got ready to have a bath after he left. I was just about to turn on the tap when I was contacted by the historic building. My period outfit had arrived with its maker, and I needed to try it on. It fits perfectly, and was such fun to play in.
After I'd finished playing I checked my bank balance, and saw what I had been frantically waiting for. What a relief. Now that I have such a good and effective support worker, things are finally starting to go right for me.

The rest of yesterday

I really was in the doldrums as I carried on with the housework. Dinner was one of my own concoctions, but I enjoyed it; chilli con carne made with chicken portions instead of mince, and a scotch bonnet. I listened to some of Rameau's Grands Motets and the first cd of his opera La Guirlande. Bed at nine feeling thoroughly exhausted. I slept very soundly through to half past five this morning, and don't remember waking up at all during the night.

The rest of today

The weather has grown very warm and humid. We've already had some spots of rain, but the heavy, dark clouds threaten a lot more rain for later. When I get home it'll be back to the charring. I'll need to take a break and cook a meal. I'm having an old concoction of (I think) my own invention: chicken cooked with kidney beans and scotch bonnet chillis. After tomorrow morning I can start to try and relax again.

Since earlier

I went home and did another lot in the flat. That's all the hard graft done. The rest will be a doddle. Then it was up to the doctors. When I got there, there was no sign of my lady. I could feel my stress levels rise as my appointment time got nearer and nearer. Then it was panic stations; I was called into the consulting room without my support worker (she had contacted me only a minute or two earlier, to say she was slightly late). I was in a state of utter confusion. I tried to explain to my doctor what had happened, and he very kindly saw his next patient before me, to give my lady time to arrive. I am so glad she was there. She spoke very directly, in a way I would never have possibly managed to do. The doctor has given me a sick note, which will make life a bit simpler for me. He has also acknowledged my autism, which is shown on the certificate as being combined with the anxiety and depression. I feel greatly relieved, particularly since the very same doctor told me last year that the autism wasn't important. Well in a sense I know of course it isn't, but when combined with the other stuff it is important. Anxiety and depression apparently manifest differently in autistic people. At last I am being heard.

Now

It's time for me to leave. Lovely weather outside. Busy though.

This morning

I did feel drugged this morning. I had the coffee and fags as quickly as I could manage, sitting at the balcony to enjoy the flowers. I am very preoccupied with the next couple of days. I shall spend the day finishing off the flat, ready for the landlord's visit in the morning. I have to go out this afternoon though, as I have a doctor's appointment at which my support worker will be present. Also, because of tomorrow's visit, I don't know what time I'll be able to start my harpsichord session. These sorts of things are exactly the things that autistic people struggle with managing.

In general

I ain't half been busy. I did a lot in the flat yesterday and cooked something new for dinner. I couldn't think what to make so I took the easy option: curry. Last night I listened to Campra's Messe Des Morts, disk 1 of Gretry's Cephale Et Procris, and disk 47 of the Bach cantatas. Bed at nine. Apart from  A sprint during the night I slept soundly, and woke up at a quarter past eight this morning.

Today

I shall be off home in a moment or two. Then it'll be all muscles and sweat and various cleaning concoctions. Hey ho.

This morning

I was very groggy first thing, partly from yesterday's long journey, and partly from the knockout pills that I resumed taking last night. I noticed how lovely the balcony looks, but was very preoccupied with the busy few days ahead of me. I did feel like my brain was on the point of imploding. Suddenly I had a brainwave and acted upon it. A couple of bus rides and problem now solved. I'll have to go home soon. I'm in the middle of making the flat look pristine for when the landlord visits on Wednesday.

Yesterday

I left the caravan site at 7.40am, and three bus rides later, I arrived home at 7.30pm. The journey home was very good indeed, except for London of course. I hate the place, with all the traffic, noise, people etc. It took a good few hours just getting into and out of London. I arrived home half an hour late, which wasn't much, but I would have arrived home in very good time were it not for London. I was famished when I arrived home. The something I defrosted from the freezer turned out to be a curry, and I couldn't face it. The very sight and smell of it made me heave. So it was toast and peanut butter for dinner, and bed at nine.

Since last time

Down with friends for a break in Cornwall. It was lovely. Parts of it were surreal though, for example getting a phone call from the parish and having to talk about my psychological state, with the seagulls kicking off around me and the waves crashing on the rocks beneath my feet. I did feel embarrassed at the end of it. Nobody made me feel embarrassed, but that is how I felt. There was a conundrum when I came to pack up to go home. I had been bought a bottle of wine and hadn't drunk it. I couldn't make my mind up whether to bring it home with me (as I had been bought it), or whether to leave it behind for the others to enjoy. I opted for the latter, but still don't know if I made the right choice without offending anyone. We had some gorgeous weather while I was away, but a very foggy and wet Saturday. The weather had evidently been much better at home, but so what? I donn't really care what the weather is like when I am away.

The rest of today

I have an appointment with my support worker after I've finished playing. She's going to help me get the latest crock of shite sorted out. Then it'll be a bus ride to my best friend's, ready for an early start in the morning.

This morning

I was up at five this morning. The weather started beautiful, and has continued so. I was very slow this morning. After the fags, coffee, ironing and bath, I packed all my things for the forthcoming break. The two bags are bulky but not at all heavy. After I've finished at the library, I shall be off for the usual harpsichording at the historic building.

Thinking

I am not very good at reacting to sad news. I never know what to say, so usually end up saying nothing at the time the news is broken. This leads people to think I am insensitive and cold. That really isn't the case. I cannot easily find the right words to express how I am feeling. When I think about it, it takes some time for the news to register. And then I can't rightly describe how I feel. I don't know how to describe it.
I cannot find words of comfort. 'Sorry' seems such a shallow word, when it can be used to excuse a person from such things as spilling a glass of water, assaulting someone or worse. There is a type of sadness for which there are no words to describe, and for which there are no words of comfort. The right words just don't exist.

Yesterday

I worked hard yesterday. I have two linoleum floors and they were in dire need of a thorough going over. They were treated to two steam cleans, a mopping and a polishing. In between each course they were allowed to dry and then swept. Good job done. My hands and arms are aching, but it's a good job done.
At the same time I listened to Bartok's viola concerto, and concerti for one and two harpsichords by W.F. Bach. Dinner was something (pre-cooked) from the freezer. Bed at ten.
The people upstairs were particularly awful. The brat threw one tantrum after another. Then all the kids were screaming out of the window, and banging with something metallic on the outside iron railings on the balcony. Bastards.

A thought

This of course does apply when it comes to the population at large. However it does not apply when it comes to the people I am closest to. I know and trust them, and can therefore know that a last minute cancellation doesn't arise out of thoughtlessness. Those people know me and would never take such a cancellation lightly. The world at large is a different matter. I don't know those people, and from past experience there is a strong probability of lack of consideration or other ulterior motives.

The news

It really is depressing. Never mind all the real issues in the world, we read daily what we've always known; the great and the good are neither as great nor as good as they pretend to be. Meanwhile the state media presents a very glossy shine on at least one of the Tory party leadership contenders. Whiter that white eh? I don't think so.

Today

I'm going to have a quiet day. Apart from a meeting at half past two, I expect I'll stay indoors all day. There is always the possibility that I might come back to the library, but at the moment I don't think so.

The rest of yesterday

It was all pretty much as usual, except that I watched a couple of episodes of Dads Army and part of Mr Turner. I listened to disk 45 of the Bach cantatas, and some orchestral stuff by Malcolm Arnold. The people upstairs was a cunt.

Since earlier

I went for the bus ride but didn't stay at my destination for very long. It was too crowded and noisy so I turned round and came back. I'll be off home in a moment. It'll be an ordinary evening followed by an ordinary dinner.

A brainwave

I very rarely do it, but I'm going to do something on impulse. In a minute or two I'm going to hop on a bus, and go and look at the local cathedral. I need to try and raise my spirits.

Now

I've been in touch with my close friends in Wales. They are part of my adopted family. Her late mother was one of my closest people. As soon as I can manage it I shall be going to see them. The last time I visited was when they got married last year. I have missed them. I still haven't been in touch with my brother though. I just don't know what to say.
So while feeling very happy with having made contact with them, and also feeling happy about being able to use my camera again, the anxiety and depression are still being a cunt. It's a peculiar and strange feeling, when you experience extremes of both happiness and worry at the same time. How I wish I were like 'normal' people, and not have to go through all this.

So far today

The weather started off gorgeous and has continued the same. The day started with fags and coffee but very slowly, looking at the plants on my balcony. I know it's not much, rather plain and very small, but it means a great deal to me. I love growing outdoor plants, and the balcony gives me the chance to grow them. Sometimes passers-by call up to say how lovely it looks.
Meanwhile my mind has been working overtime. I have a lot to think about at the moment, and I suppose it's the autism that makes it so hard for me to see my way through. For the past few months it seems to have been just one thing after another, and that triggers the anxiety and depression. The latter have just been diagnosed as a disorder (permanent) rather than just the normal (the hump). Of course that ties in with what is not uncommon in autistic men. I had an appointment for tomorrow, but I've cancelled it. I really need a bit of a break from it all.

Yesterday

The weather was beautiful, which is more than can be said for my time at the historic building.  Our visitors were a cunt. The rest of the day was very bland. Curry for dinner, Bach chorales and computer games for afters. Bed at a quarter past nine.

As before

London was horrible. Noisy, dirty, crowded, hot, and so many lights. People aggressive and rude. Surly. Horrendous, relentless traffic. Cacophony. Continuous movement. I don't know how I ever managed to live there.

The weekend

I had a lovely Saturday walking round Greenwich Park with my friend. It does look beautiful. The herbaceous border, the flower gardens and the rose garden are at their stunning best. Before that we went and saw the armada portrait of Elizabeth I, which is currently on display at the National Maritime Museum. We had a lovely meal out, and that was such a treat. When I got home I watched Mr Turner, an extraordinary and very good film. Bed at eleven.

Now

Still in that frame of mind. When I was on my way to the library, I came across someone I know. I agreead to go round for a cup of coffee (groan), but I'd really rather not. Apart from that I'm going to spend the day at home again.
Yesterday's listening included Beethoven symphonies 1, 2 and 4, Bach organ music and cantatas, a few music hall songs and Haydn's Seven Last Words (the orchestral version).