My big day etc

For the past few weeks my life has been crowded with activity. In fact it has been too much activity for my liking. On top of that I am still feeling very run down with the anaemia, and am likely to continue the same until my folic acid levels are restored. On top of all this I have been going through one of those autism-related crises, where things from the past suddenly fall into place, and are continually on one's mind until they have been properly evaluated. And also on top of the lot I have overdosed on people. My work at the historic building brings me into contact with lots of people. I put on my mask, am very polite, and do lots of talking.
A couple of days ago I finally got round to composing and printing the programmes for my recital this coming Wednesday. I am also going to precede the recital with a talk on the political and artistic background to the pieces I am to play. I have spent this morning typing up my notes for the talk, and am very relieved that they are finally done.
I have decided that a major change is needed in my life. My initial thought was to give up the historic building altogether. The manager has lost all interest and leaves me to run the place with no support at all. That is not what I am there for. So after the recital, I am only going to be there twice a week. That way he will have no choice but to manage it (or go). So for me it will be a lot less of the people stuff and a lot more time to myself. The manager is fully aware of my issues around autism, but does not a single thing to help me. I have thought for some time now that he has turned out to be a bit of a cunt.

Autism stuff

My mood has been going down over the past week. There is no reason for it that I can think of. My life is infinitely better than it was two months ago. The only thing I can put it down to is that nasty combination of autism and anxiety with depressive disorder. The last bit seems to be a law unto itself, creeping up on me and talking hold whenever it wants. I am certainly satisfied with my lot and should be feeling happy now, but I don't. Apparently anxiety & depression behave differently for autistic people than for people at large. I don't know enough about it. I'm not a doctor. All I know is that it's a cunt, and I want it to go away.

Life and death

I arrived at the doctors' surgery this morning, full of trepidation about my appointment. I was fully expecting a (well-deserved) bollocking from the doctor over my not-too-healthy lifestyle. However that was not to be. What a change from the aggressive stance of my previous G.P. The doctor talked me through the treatments for anaemia and for high cholesterol levels. I started on the anaemia tablets yesterday, and since then I have felt considerably better in myself.
Yesterday afternoon I finally got round to digging the last part of the front garden. I've planted most of what I have dug, and will look for a few more plants later on. There is a quite substantial mound of garden waste by the front door. I'll try and bag it up over the weekend, and bung the dustmen some money for taking it.

In the garden

When I get up in the morning I always have my coffee and fags by the back-door window, so I can keep an eye out for what is going on in the garden. Any sign of the green parrots, seagulls, feral pigeons, crows or cats and I'm straight out there with the broom. They tend not to like it. The birds that I do feed are getting used to me now, so long as I am behind the kitchen window. The morning feeding ritual is really quite funny. To begin with, all the birds would fly away as soon as the back door opened. Now they just jump up onto the nearest branch as soon as the door opens, and they are back down within seconds of it closing. I expect that common wild birds must be quite boring to a lot of people, but I've really grown to enjoy them. They are now a permanent part of the garden that I've always wanted, but never had until now.
I had the blood tests this morning and made the nurse laugh when I came out with a joke from a Carry On film (Nothing to worry about. It's just a little prick). It seems that I have vitamin B12 deficiency, which may mean a lifetime of injections. I won't know that until I see the doctor later on this week. It would explain how I've been feeling; extreme tiredness, lack of energy, low mood, pins and needles). I can't wait to get it sorted out.

On reflection

I've had quite an interesting few years, to put it mildly. Three of my worst years ever have given way to one of my best. I must be quite indestructable to have got through what I have, but here I am, rearing to go. It has taken its toll though. I have aged noticeably over the period, and I feel generally tireder.
Because of the tablets I have to take, I am supposed to have a yearly blood test to make sure they are not doing any damage. I haven't had one for years. My previous doctor was an unmitigated disaster. My new doctor, however, is really on the case. She must have been through my records, as she called me in to have the said blood tests. Apparently they didn't look right, so I had to go in for a second lot of tests last week. I wasn't expecting the results until this week, but they rang me back that same afternoon, as the doctor said she was concerned. I am going in for another lot tomorrow morning and will see the doctor later this week. I am not at all worried, but I may well get an explanation as to why I have been feeling so run-down (actually I have been feeling pretty dreadful) for such a long time. You get to a certain age when you wonder what is going to drop off next (!!!)
I have kept myself busy at home, and have nearly finished sorting out the front garden. It is going to look lovely in the summer. Meanwhile I have decided to reduce the number of days I work at the historic building. Thew manager comes in for a few hours at the weekend, but otherwise I am left to get on with running the place. I feel that I have been used very badly. Apart from that I am very unhappy with the manager's general conduct. If the man wants to be the manager, then he had better start managing. I am too tired to carry any passengers.

The autistic gardener

Last week I dismantled and moved the previous tenant's playground and left it in the front garden. The local tinkers took no interest. I'd rather hoped they would take the scrap metal and get something for it. Luckily on Saturday the landlord drove down in his van, so I got him to take most of it. It was dark, cold and pissing down with rain when he came, and we missed a few things where we couldn't see them. I caught the dustmen this morning, and they were glad to take the remaining items for a small donation. Great! Now my front garden is clear.
This morning I did what I wanted to do on my first Sunday off (if I'd been able to take it, and took myself to the garden centre. When I got back home I got to work and cleared half of the overgrown wilderness that is my front garden, and planted it out with roses. Well, it is a start, and I am really glad I did it.

Unexpected

Last week I had a few things that didn't go as they should have done. First of all there was the appointment at the shrink's. Although it worked out well in the end, I hadn't been told what the appointment was about, so turned up very apprehensive and not knowing what to expect. I| did have (very polite but honest) words with the man about it. That sort of arrangement is one of the worst things you can do to someone with autism.
Then on Saturday my hopes of a Sunday off were dashed. Early on one of the people who works there contacted me to say they weren't well enough to come in over the weekend. Then I heard the irritating cunt wasn't well with something, and we weren't sure if he'd be in on the Sunday. So that was that. The next day I went in as usual. The person who had caused me to stop doing Sundays turned up, so I didn't hang about. I left an hour and as half early.
The landlord turned up on Saturday night to collect his post, so I thought. What he didn't tell me was that he'd be doing some odd jobs too. Of course the things needed doing, but I was really hacked off about it. Why couldn't he have told me first? Then I wouldn't have had to stop cooking and end up eating two hours later than usual.
All these events have ground me down a bit, and my mood has been taking a nose-dive since my appointment with the shrink. People really do get on my nerves.