Today isn’t the day for a post about trans speech therapy and singing, or about discovering that I’m autistic and how I got my diagnosis, or about any of a number of other topics that I’d like to write about when I’m in the right frame of mind. Nor, I’m afraid, is it a day to continue serialisation of the still-untitled work of fiction I began last NaNoWriMo (though I haven’t given up on it altogether).
My next proper post will probably be the one I’ve promised my Ko-fi supporters who generously crowdfunded my place at this year’s Scottish Autism conference, which takes place in Glasgow in just nine days’ time. (Continued Ko-fi support would be welcomed, as my finances are still rather precarious!) In the meantime, here’s another stream-of-consciousness unpost, a relatively unfiltered situational, sequential brain dump.
To set the scene, be aware that I’m sitting with my noise-not-quite-enough-cancelling headphones on, in a busy university chaplaincy centre (I’m meeting the chaplain later). I still have eduroam access, which is a relief, though I don’t know how much longer that will last. My university email address just stopped working yesterday, so I hope I haven’t been left uncontactable for anything important.
I mentioned singing earlier, and I have particularly enjoyed singing the last couple of days, despite having a cold that made me think I probably wouldn’t be able to. Leading the singing in church on Sunday evening was more enjoyable than I remember it being for a while, and singing with the Loud & Proud Choir, particularly in a couple of small groups, last night was really good fun. Looking forward to our festive concert next month – though I do still have to do a bit of memorisation work!
My stream of consciousness has dried up, or perhaps more accurately, it has sprung a leak, as my attention has been pulled in different directions by all that’s going on around me. I see people coming and going, hear occasional snatches of laughter, and, worst of all, despite the headphones, hear conversations of people nearby. My headphones may reduce the level to a whisper, but words are still discernible and my brain can’t stop effortfully trying to track what’s being said. This is exactly why I could never work in a shared PhD office, as I was always being distracted by hushed conversations and other noise.
A wave of sleepiness has come over me. I’ll be seeing the chaplain quite soon, so I think I’ll take a break from writing and come back to this later.
— some time elapses —
It’s much later, after eleven, and I should probably get to bed soon, so I’ll wrap this up as a shortish post.
Apart from hanging out on Twitter, which is my default state, I did spend a bit of time earlier this evening doing some knitting. That’s something I took up last week when I joined an autistic fibre-craft group. I hadn’t knitted since I was a child, so I was basically starting from scratch. All I’m doing at the moment is knitting a rectangle of sorts using a single stitch throughout. I did get stuck doing it at home last week because I had no idea why everything was getting so tight. And my hands were aching after a couple of rows. But yesterday at the group I discovered how to control the tension. So I’ve made a bit more progress today. It’s not going to win any awards, since it looks pre-moth-eaten!
It’s bonfire night, so fireworks have been popping, crackling and booming outside, thanks to the relative lack of regulation of high explosives around this time of year. I haven’t actually seen any, but I have jumped a number of times as they’ve gone off. I don’t mind fireworks displays, but it would be quite nice if they were more constrained time-wise. And my absolute favourite fireworks happen to be pretty, floaty coloured orbs that are almost silent.