We had another one of my old-time singalongs at the pub yesterday. People weren't up for singing to begin with, so I played the songs in my little corner. Then I started playing some of the popular classics, and these went down extremely well. People said the kindest things about my playing. I continued just the same for a while, until someone said they wanted to sing. So, I conscripted a choir and handed out some songsheets. It was fantastic. The singing nearly brought brought the house down. I played more or less continuously between 8pm and 12.30pm. It really is such a marvellous atmosphere when people are such sports. I spent some time after with my brother and his partner, and drank a respectable quantity of my favourite cider (for medicinal purposes, you see). My friend from uni popped in too, which was lovely and completely unexpected. I was so pleased to see him.
I went to bed at 3am and got up at noon, having been awake for quite some time, thinking and foot-tapping as usual. Thoughts, mostly good ones, have been flying round in my mind since I woke up, and so has the cider. Anyway I'm not going to duff myself up about it, because I had a bloody good night.
I'm nearly through the two-mugs-of-coffee routine now. In a minute I'll take my tablets and try and pull myself together. I really want to hold on to the good feelings that I've had for the past couple of days. I hope that my fucking autistic brain will not spoil it for me by doing what comes naturally to it.
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