Take a picture of 9 windows

…I managed four

This week has been…a lot.

If you are currently already overwhelmed please feel free to scroll down to the

🍵🍵🍵 and skip the processing of my big week. If you have space the processing begins after the 💖💖💖 (there is never any need to read what I’ve written. Ever.)

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I always work Monday through Wednesday. That’s enough to keep my life entertaining and for me to be able to help with the bills (at least until my divorce salary runs out at the end of this year). I love my two jobs. Absurdly. They are both magical places with the people who own them treating me with exceptional kindness and compassion. They also pay me properly.

This week I also signed up to volunteer at a festival. A wondrous documentary festival.

Monday I worked. It’s a 45 minute drive there, and a 45 minute drive home. It was busier than normal and my bosses both stayed available to help me (usually I mostly manage on my own on Mondays). There was a wondrous family with needs that required more emotional labour than usual, and I was so happy to be there for them. That is my jam. Helping people to feel like they are valued and exactly where’s they are meant to be. It was a beautiful day.

Tuesday I had to go to the volunteer appreciation party to get my volunteer assignments for the week. After a full work day. So I was out of the house from 9:30am-8pm. I had to talk with new people. I managed, elegantly, I think.

Wednesday I worked all day. Then went home. Fed my eldest. Walked my dog. After that I went to the opening night of the festival. I was a greeter (which is absolutely my skill set) and an usher (also well within my abilities) but the movie was intense and brilliant, and it was a documentary with a Q&A after which was part of my usher mandate. So I it definitely turned on an emotional toll, the movie alone required an enormous amount of empathy and I wept, and then had to take the microphone to the folks asking questions. I got home around 10pm.

Thursday I was able to sleep in. My volunteer shift wasn’t until the evening. But it was going to be a party night. (I do not party. Or drink. Or partake of any substances. But I do like to dance.) I spent some time with my eldest. I contemplated my future. I went to my shift. I was greeter/usher again. I’m great with repetitive roles. I become comfortable in the space. I’m a volunteer who needs very little raining, because I used to run shows, produce events, volunteer coordinate on grand scales. Being a volunteer means that I can help manage things from the inside of the machine. That is what I’m very very good at. The movie was fantastic. A look at disco through a very queer/BIPOC focused lens, and I loved it. After was the disco party. I wasn’t going to go, but the movie got me wanting to dance.

I asked for a mocktail. The bartender gave me what was absolutely an alcoholic beverage. I explained to them that was not what a mocktail was and nipped that possible issue in the bud immediately. I was grateful to have been there to clear that up. I danced until the dance floor began to fill and then I went outside to chat with people who came up to chat with me. I did not get home until 10:30.

An early version of me could have managed all of this, I used to say that I was like a shark, if I stopped moving I’d die (that’s not true of sharks, and definitely not true of me). But it is true that I could keep doing things if I got to nap in the afternoon. That nap was essential to all the things I managed to do at night.

This week I didn’t nap.

I just kept going.

Friday was supposed to be my day off. I was supposed to go visit a wondrous friend of mine who is also an autist. We were going to go for a walk. We’d been waiting for the summer weather to end. I was so excited.

But Thursday night my friend asked if I could come by her cafe to run through what I needed to do because I’m covering a shift for her next Thursday (the upcoming one) and my dog’s hair appointment was rescheduled so she could be shaved in advance of her knee surgery this Tuesday.

So Friday went from day of rest and friendship to, rushing around. I ended up accidentally working at the cafe for 15 minutes before I got up the courage to express that I was only there to check in about my upcoming shift. My friend was so thoughtful and realized her confusion. She apologized and let me go.

I then went into my favourite art supply shop where a friend works and asked if I could have a hug. She was happy to oblige, and we co-regulated for a moment. I got some art supplies and new sketching journal.

I went to the cafe down the street. I cried when the barista was super kind to me. She came to sit with me (we are also friends, and I’m so lucky to live in a town full of friends at all my favourite shops. It is essential for me. Routine, structure, knowing how things work are how I manage in a world as an autistic human, a world that is not built for neurodivergent peoples). I am exceptionally grateful for all the people who are gentle and thoughtful with me. Who have befriended me…accepted my offer of friendship.

My friend and I made plans for next Thursday after my cafe shift, to co-regulate after what might be a stressful day.

I sketched the baskets and calmed my nervous system. I wrote myself a note. (It’s in the above picture)

Then I got my mail and took my dog to her hair appointment and sat in another favourite cafe the town over.

I had so much beautiful mail.

A surprise from a friend, a brilliant writer/art whom I’ve met here, on Substack. There was art, a note and stickers.

In another letter, I received an erasure poem as part of this project from a lovely human from Missouri!

And they had included a matching page for me to make my own poem. So I did! And I put it in an envelope to send to Missouri as a thank you!

I absolutely loved the idea of a different poem being created from the same source material!

Then as I was about to leave, not one but TWO people dropped knives near me. Butter knives. It was oddly comical. I helped them retrieve their knives and put them in the bus bin, and assured them that it was not a big deal, but a weird magical part of my day.

…and the sewing peddle under my table moved, as if pressed by a ghost. That was weird too.

I went to the nearby shops on the way to pick up my pup, and finally night this hooded dress that had been calling to me for months. A dress I’m going to look forward to wearing for the next 30 years. It’s that kind of dress.

Then I went into a shop where they have so much yarn and the owner asked me if I wanted a job drawing patterns. Like almost immediately.

I considered it. But I realized that it wasn’t likely my skill set. And the card she gave me has disappeared so I can’t even follow up, though I’d planned to. Sometimes the universe knows what’s best (or at least that’s what I told myself when I lost the card)

Then I went into the city to pick up my youngest. We went for dinner. At a town half way between the city and my home-town. It felt lovely to be in a place where we were near strangers. Sometimes that is soothing too. The not needing to know how things work because you’re not from that place.

We drove the rest of the way home in the dark, listening to music.

Then the four of us: my partner, my eldest, my youngest and I chatted about life. My eldest went to bed. The three of us played a few games and then fell quickly to sleep out of exhaustion.

At 4am on Saturday morning my eldest woke me up worried about tonsillitis. Which he did not have.

But I was awake.

I read some newsletters on Substack. And I was struck by the theme that kept coming up.

So I made a decision to begin work on something I’ve wanted to do my whole life.i won’t share it just yet because…I want to do some research. I have a mentor willing to answer my questions and tell me her story. I’ve told my close friends. I’ve been encouraged by a colleague here whose work I am inspired by. I think it’s my next big thing. I feel it deeply that it’s my next big thing. So I am keeping it close to my chest so no one can discourage me from it. Because I want it badly. And that’s how I know it’s my next big thing. Because it’s occupying space in my brain, my heart, and I don’t want to ruin it by getting ahead of myself.

(I am a planner, an organized human who likes to be fully researched before I jump into a new thing. I like to do it impeccably. Not perfectly. But impeccably. Which here means putting all of my heart into it so that it is good, and helpful. I promise I’ll talk about it when I’m ready. But this is part of my process. The talking around the edges of it. )

Saturday I volunteered for the festival in the morning. I got to watch filmmakers pitching their dream projects. And it was inspiring. They were wonderful and it solidified that I was making the right decision by pursuing my dream project.

I had to go home after that. To parent. To gather food for my family. Was that just yesterday? It feels so long ago. I talked with my best friends. I sent out messages to tell the people I care for deeply about my next big idea. I still have messages to send. But I want to be more researched before I tell some of my other favourite people. So if you haven’t heard yet, it’s because I need to be more prepared because I also value your opinion and do not want to tell you sloppily.

If that makes sense.

Today I was supposed to volunteer for the industry portion of the festival. My friend wanted me to see how it all worked. But I think that all the moving parts of making a documentary film is too much for my brain right now, and not where I want to divots my energies. And that was a good check in. Because I’ve had people want me to become a producer of films. And I don’t think I’m quite ready for that big dream yet. I think that’s a “once my children are out on their own” thing.

(This walking through my week has been a good exercise in seeing why currently I’m lying in bed having to process this week)

Today I tried to take pictures of windows.

Four windows

And I tried to go to a familiar cafe with my youngest for breakfast. But neither of us could manage to go in. It was too busy, the parking lot.

So we kept driving to the town over and went to a magical place where the entire staff walked us through how things worked. They metaphorically held our hands while we figured out the process. It wasn’t straightforward. And then understood that. They took my questions to heart and genuinely responded. And one of the staff members mentioned she had a daughter on the spectrum, which I saw as a gentle opening to talk about how I am autistic. She had gathered it by my mannerisms and the way I was interacting. It was lovely be seen, and valued, and helped in the way that I needed to be helped.

But by the end I was dizzy and overwhelmed. From the whole week. And when I got home I texted the volunteer coordinator. I told her I had got my wall.

She was so kind, and told me to take care of myself.

So I am. I’m lying in bed, writing, and about to take a nap.

It was some week. That’s for sure. I wish I could say that I had some rest coming up.

But next week is also a big one.

I’m sending my manuscript to a wondrous reader. I have three days of work and my pup’s surgery. And I won’t be able to go back to my heart-home as I’d hoped.

But the week after that, I think there are some moments of rest baked into the recipe.

🍵🍵🍵

I appreciate you.

Tomorrow I hope to take pictures of cups. I’m oddly excited about this prompt. I have a lot of weird cups.

Heart,

Wake