A busy time

I went to view the house last Sunday. It was in a sorry state, but it's a beautiful house with a large garden. On Tuesday I submitted the credit reference form, or rather I thought I had. It turns out that the wretched thing hadn't gone through after all, so I re-submitted it yesterday. This time I did receive a confirmation email, so fingers crossed. I should be moving in a month or so.
A couple of days ago the people downstairs decided to have a nice piss-up with their friends. It was awful,  deafeningly loud and in that hideous language of theirs. There was one funny moment though, when the wrong takeaway was delivered. That awful man spent ages on the phone, shouting at the restaurant staff. It took ages because the man's English is so poor. I swear I never want to hear that terrible language ever again.  Of course I know what language it is, but won't name it, for fear of offending all the decent people whose language it is.
Meanwhile we are in the middle of our Halloween event at the historic building. It's all spooks and skulls and lights; in other words, pure undiluted suite. It really is entertainment for cretins. I'll be glad when it's all over.

My week

I've had quite a week. The downstairs neighbours woke me up with loud music at 2am last Monday and Wednesday mornings. It was really horrible and I let rip with the most indelicate vocabulary. For one thing I can't get back to sleep when I'm woken in that manner, so I feel mentally and physically exhausted afterwards. And my mood has been terrible all week.
Then on Saturday the manager returned to the historic building. I really do think it's too soon. He really does look frail. So I'm having to keep an eye on him. That morning we had an incident involving a demented, deaf and uncommunicative old man. Of course everybody faffed around before eventually allowing me to call for an ambulance, which is exactly what I had suggested in the first place. Blimey. People don't half get on my nerves. Later on I was approached by someone who remembered me from years ago. And then I remembered him too. He always asked me to play the classical stuff. Well he's opening a restaurant, and asked me if I'd like to play there. I couldn't make my mind up on the spot. I never can. So I went to the restaurant yesterday morning to leave my details. He wasn't there so I left them with a very frosty-looking woman. I felt terrible from lack of sleep, and looked how I felt. I don't think the woman was impressed with me. I would like to hear back from them though.
Then yesterday morning I was woken up at 4am by the usual culprits. That was that. Chronic tiredness, headache, sore eyes and horrible mood all day. Those people really are a pack of cunts.
Last night I had a message from my support worker; we're going to view a house in a different area on Sunday. It is much more than I can comfortably afford, but I really don't mind going without again. It will be worth it, just to get away from those neighbours.
I'm thoroughly exhausted this morning. All the excitement of the new house kept waking me up during the night.

Another day

I've got a busy today, what with my recital this evening. I have to move all my stuff from the historic building to the venue; keyboard, stand, stool, scores, period costume, and all on foot. Then I have to arrange the seating in the hall. I'll reserve some seats at the back for any aspies, so they don't have to feel uncomfortable about sitting down in a crowd, and can get up whenever they want and without disturbing people. I'm going to play through my programme at least a few times; one or two of the pieces are still quite terrifying to play, and I'm not altogether happy with them.
My day got off to a strange start, as they not too unfrequently do. I pay for a parking space in the flats where I live, so that anyone who visits me will have somewhere secure to park. There has been a history of other residents parking there without my knowledge and without my permission. All they had to do was ask, and I wouldn't have minded. This morning I saw one of the main culprits, appearing to be driving out of my parking space. She is a nurse from a part of the world where people are generally (in my experience) volatile, and believing that the world owes them something. I had every intention of allowing her to use the space, but felt obliged to point out that I was paying for it. She hit the roof and turned very nasty, ranting and raving etc. I burst out laughing, and told her there's nothing like a display of good manners to start the day. She was so angry that her car cut out, which made me laugh even more. I was laughing both at her antics, and at the fact that I'd changed my mind about letting her use the space. Aggression just doesn't work with me.

Across the ages...

My ancestor John Freeth (1731-1808) is a man very much after my own heart. He was a humble innkeeper, a radical, a leading figure of the Birmingham Enlightenment. If he was anything like his descendants, then he was probably a bit of a cunt too. But I admire what he had to say about the terrible Enclosures Acts of the Industrial Revolution:

THE COTTAGER'S COMPLAINT, ON .. ENCLOSING SUTTON-COLDFIELD

HOW sweetly did the moments glide,
How happy were the days!
When no sad fear my breast annoyed,
Or e'er disturbed my ease;
Hard fate! that I should be compelled
My fond abode to lose,
Where threescore years in peace I've dwelled,
And wish my life to close.

Chorus

Oh the time! the happy, happy time,
Which in my cot I've spent;
I wish the church-yard was his doom,
Who murders my content.

My ewes are few, my stock is small,
Yet from my little store
I find enough for nature's call,
Nor would I ask for more!
That word, ENCLOSURE! to my heart
Such evil doth bespeak,
I fear I with my all must part,
And fresh employment seek.
Chorus—Oh the time, &c.

What little of the spacious plain
Should power to me consign,
For want of means, I can't obtain,
Would not long time be mine:
The stout may combat fortune's frowns,
Nor dread the rich and great;
The young may fly to market-towns,
But where can I retreat?
Chorus—Oh the time, &c.

What kind of feelings must that man
Within his mind possess,
Who, from an avaricious plan,
His neighbours would distress?
Then soon, in pity to my case,
To Reason's ear incline;
For on his heart it stamps disgrace,
Who formed the base design.

Chorus

Oh the time! the happy, happy time,
Which in my cot I've spent;
I wish the church-yard was his doom,
Who murders my content.

 

Today

I've had a very interesting and enjoyable sort of day, exploring an historic mediaeval town near to where I'm visiting. I enjoyed the old alleys, charity shops and the pound shop, and had a lovely cream tea for breakfast. The town was very picturesque and atmospheric. Afterwards we visited a couple of Saxon churches. I cooked a very traditional and tasty dinner for three, and it tasted much better than when I cook for myself. It was all very convivial.
I've been up since half past three this morning, and am consequently very tired. I hope I sleep better tonight, and that I am not pestered by the horrible nightmares of the past couple of nights. I've already had a bottle and a half of wine, with that end in mind, but have my eyes on a further glass or two. Nightmares is a cunt.

A funny sort of night

The awful ordeal of the last two years, and the events of the past couple of weeks, have caught up with me. I've had one of those nights where the anxiety and depression have ganged up with the autism to leave me feeling completely battered.
I'm away from home this week, and having such a marvelous time with dear friends, and catching up with people I hadn't seen for such a long time. I now have the opportunity to go to India, and I'm really excited about it. I love carnatic music, and a trip to certain cities in Tamil Nadu will give me (I hope) the opportunity to find some interesting recordings. I'm worried about the climate, the general business of it all, and the insects. I'm quite phobic about insects at the best of times. I know it's quite silly, but that's how I am. I've decided to go for only a week, just in case I find it too difficult.
I had really terrible nightmares last night, and woke up in a state of panic at half past three this morning. The agonisingly long period of mistreatment by those in authority, the final outcome at the tribunal, the uncertainty about my flat and my impatience to move, my concern for the man at the historic building who had a heart attack, my finding myself in charge of the building when there is nothing I would rather do less, my playing for a wedding reception next weekend, my forthcoming concert; I woke up with all these things going through my head, and sweating profusely.
On top of that there are still things that I need to sort out with my support worker when I see her. And on top of that, there is the full expectation that things will go wrong for me. That is what generally happens. Ain't I cheerful.

My week

I have had a roller-coaster of a week. There was the build-up to my tribunal hearing, which was really stressful. Meanwhile the hideously noisy downstairs neighbours gave regular performances every afternoon and evening. Meanwhile the man who runs the historic building suffered a heart attack last Sunday night. That piece of news was awful. He is likely to be off sick for a long time, and it is possible he may not come back. So that leaves me in charge. I don't want to be in charge, but am determined the building remains open. We are very short of volunteers too, which is a headache. This week I have found myself at the reception desk instead of playing, and that's not ideal. I feel very shaken by it all. I don't cope well with all this sudden change. My few days away might do me some good, I hope.