Afternoon. Not the most of summer like days in London this weekend. Gloomy and overcast. That’s how I’ve been, on some days in the recent past.
I’m off to a birthday party. Not mine, that’s next month. A friend of mine and I’ve been invited. Not so bad. I’m not the best at parties, that inability to make small talk lets me down. Other people tend to move away from this socially inept human being, finding others more interesting and talkative.
So it is with some trepidation that I venture to this party. The anxiety is starting, and other things have started to go wrong as well. Like a traffic jam, which seems the norm in this area lately. The longer I’m on this bus, the worse I’m going to get. I’ve got all afternoon though, to either go to this party or to turn around and go home.
Decisions, decisions. This is what I’m faced with most days. Oh and by the way, I have a disability. It’s called autism. I hate this daily grind…I really do.
Allen Brooks xx