Showing posts with label because you're on the edge of your seat about this. Show all posts
Showing posts with label because you're on the edge of your seat about this. Show all posts

20 December, 2015

Moving the furniture

I'm 27 years old, "living independently," and just unable to cope with my 2 favorite diners closing in the span of 1 month. Manor Coffee Shop closed in November and I thought, at least Lucky Penny is still around. Then I happened to read online that LP was closing, but I just told myself it couldn't be true even though the article was from May.

Tonight I'm at LP and I can kind of see that everyone is talking about LP closing, and I want to ignore it and pretend I don't hear it. This is actually kind of embarrassing, that I can't bring myself to make it real by asking Nancy, the waitress, about it. It feels infinitely sad, like I am moving or graduating from college. It just has seen me through a lot of bad times.

It's not a nice restaurant but that has never been my jam.

It's a big place where one section is always closed, except for a few people eating there who I think are employees or their family members. There is a counter. There are copious green, run-down booths, almost always mostly empty when I go for breakfast or dinner. It is full right at lunchtime, but even then it's not packed.

It looks out onto Masonic and Geary through big tall windows. It's a very nice view, especially the underpass. It's one of the closest things in San Francisco to the Connecticut and New York state diners I grew up with, which are often in the middle of a highway. There are lots of nice diners (Manor Coffee Shop among them) that are just in regular buildings in the middle of small quiet streets. But there is something magically transitional about a diner with a parking lot that looks out onto streaming traffic; the sense that it's a space in the middle of a journey.

Autistic people are famously attracted to trains, and anecdotally, I sometimes think we're attracted to diners as well. I'm probably wrong, but I can't help associating both things with the big tug-of-war at the center of my mind. I love short visits to strange places, impulses, fleeting impressions; sleeping on somebody's floor; listening to a stranger's totally unrelatable life story and pretending I understand. But my memory and my processing speed just aren't good enough for me to be able to function in that kind of life. If things aren't exactly where and how I expect, I can't do much.

Trains and diners provide a happy medium where you can watch the world go by while ensconced in a comfortable booth. You get to stay passive and do pretty much the same thing, while people and places rush over you without making the demands that they do when you've actually committed to them. The menu offers lots of possibilities, but laid out and laminated.

This year, I guess, I'll be forced to make good on my plan of getting to know some new diners and visiting them nervously until they don't make me nervous anymore.

Some contenders: Tennessee Grill and Bashful Bull Too, both on Taraval Street; and Hamburger Haven, on Clement. But even though San Francisco doesn't seem like the place for a lot of diners, there are actually tons more options, which is just the kind of freedom I don't like.


///

Woman: When did your father's father die?
Man: James? In 1955. It's funny because I was just thinking about this in the shower today.
Woman: I was thinking about it while we were watching the movie. Because I was thinking about your grandma.

They both have interestingly powerful voices. It's hard to explain it exactly--every phrase just sounds kind of forcefully thrusted, like they're being sarcastic ("because I was THINKING about your GRANDMA"). Can't see woman's face so for some reason was assuming they're just friends, not married, because I'm imagining she's younger than him--she has brown hair and man has white hair. Imagining they are friends who spend a lot of time together because they keep talking about where they will go to eat after Lucky Penny closes. Where's open all the time and always empty and there's always parking, they ask each other.

"I guess it's just progress," she says. "Which I have trouble with. It's like Curly's, how Curly's is nicer now but you had feelings about how it was when it wasn't nice, even though you know that it's nicer now, it just makes you feel sad."

03 July, 2014

Round and round in my bed life

My life is pretty great. Let's talk about it. Okay, it's not the greatest life ever, but there are certain times of the day when I feel really satisfied. Last night I remember taking out my contacts, throwing them away, and reaching for my glasses; and feeling pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to do this. I used to take three hours to get ready in the morning and now I can take less than one hour--and that's not racing against the clock and working super hard to focus on what I'm doing.  I don't even use timers right now.

Around the beginning of last year, the idea developed that I could try to make my activities of daily living easier. I'd give most of the credit to the family I work for.  First of all, my job is so easy and fun that I can focus on things besides hating my life and being afraid of getting fired.  Second of all, Anna's parents are really organized. Of course I've met organized people before, but I was never in the right frame of mind to notice and appreciate it.  This time around, I was.

If I'm looking for pillowcases or paper towels or stacking cups or shoes, I always know where to find them in Anna's house.  Each pair of shoes even always goes in the same compartment in the thing that holds the shoes.  Her long-sleeved and short-sleeved shirts are in different places, and the long-sleeved shirts are divided into patterned and not.  Her hoodies are organized in such a way that you can identify them without unfolding them.  And a lot of things are labeled.

This makes everything more predictable, which is great. I decided that I wanted my living space to be like this, but even more so. Since I run into problems when I have to make decisions, I decided that I would do exactly the same things in exactly the same place when I was doing activities of daily living like getting dressed, putting on makeup, or putting in my contacts.  Over the first year that I was trying to make things easier, I realized that reducing the number of steps was even more important than making things predictable.  I decided to set things up so that I barely had to move to get ready in the morning and get ready for bed at night.  By the way, this might not make sense if you don't read my mush post first.

Right now my schedule is like this:

I wake up in the morning (usually before my alarm). I reach for my phone to see what time it is, and open my computer, which is on a large table next to my bed. I might check tumblr or something, and if I'm thirsty I drink some of the seltzer that I always have in my room. I have a recycling bin next to the bed for all my cans of seltzer. If I'm hungry, I drink a bottle of Ensure or eat a corn tortilla or some crackers, all of which I can reach from my bed.  Then I start up whatever TV show I'm watching right now.  I put in my contacts.  I throw the contact boxes away in the container I use as a trash can.  Then I reach for my backpack, which is at the end of my bed, and take out the Ziploc bag in the left corner pocket, which has all my makeup in it.  I sit on my bed and watch TV as I put my makeup on.  Then I put the Ziploc bag back in my backpack so I'll have makeup if I need it during the day.

My bed has bars which means I can hang a lot of stuff on it.  I usually have some clothes hanging on the end of the bed--all the clothes that have been worn at least once, but are okay to wear again (shirts and leggings=two days, pants=three days, skirts and hoodies=until I do laundry).  The other clothes are in my cubbies, which are next to my bed.  I have everything folded so I can see what it is.  I can just look at all the clothes and decide which ones to wear, and I can even reach my desired articles of clothing without getting out of bed, even though I might have to move to the edge of the bed to do it.

I don't brush my hair so I am now ready to go.  I pack my phone and my computer if I want it, turn off my power strip, and go to the other side of my room where my shoes are.  I put on my shoes.  Then I go in the bathroom, brush my teeth, and leave.

When I get home at night I usually just want to get in bed.  If I have something to do in the house, like put my frozen vegetables in the refrigerator or take out the trash, I look at my watch and promise myself it will take less than fifteen minutes.  After that I go in the bathroom, brush my teeth, and wash my face.  When I get in my room I put down my backpack, turn on the power strip, turn on my lamp, change into pajamas, do my *~Skincare Regimen~*, take out my contacts, and put on my glasses.

Bear in mind it's often like eight o'clock at this point, and I might not turn out the light and go to sleep until midnight.  But I've pretty much always fallen into bed and mushed out as soon as I've gotten home.  The difference is that for a long time I didn't accept that I would do this, so I would lie down with my clothes on and then spend the next few hours trying to get out of bed to brush my teeth and wash my face.  Obviously my mouth was 90% cavities and my skin condition was out of control to the point that I didn't want to wash it even when I had the chance, because touching my skin hurt so much.  Now things are a lot better!  Having a face that doesn't hurt is probably my favorite thing about life right now.

Aside from changing the way I do stuff at home, the most important ADL decision I've made was about what not to do at home, i.e. cooking and eating.  This was a hard decision to come to because I grew up thinking of cooking as something that is part of being independent.  My parents had enough money to go out to eat a lot, so we did, but they would cook at home a lot too.  I felt proud when I learned to cook some simple meals by myself.  Over the first two years after college, I made my own meals the majority of the time and was slowly learning to make more and more things.  I didn't make anything complicated, but I enjoyed the food I made.

But even though this sounds like a nice progression to independence, I realized that it wasn't benefiting me.  The problem isn't really the time and energy involved in cooking, although that is usually a lot more time and energy from me than it would be from someone else making the same thing.  It does take time but it's sort of fun and I guess it often takes me the same amount of time to travel to my favorite diner....where I'm writing this right now!!! I love you Lucky Penny!!

Photo of me drinking coffee in a diner with very unkempt hair


I bet you would never have guessed I don't brush my hair, right.

Anyway, sorry for the derailment but the main problem is actually dishes.  I don't think anyone finds dishes fun and easy to do, but for me because eating is a more relaxed, mushy activity, it's really hard to go from eating to doing the dishes.  If I eat by myself in my room instead of with roommates, then I get even mushier and end up falling asleep surrounded by an army of dirty dishes.

It is fun to imagine a fantastical universe where some amount of planning or prioritizing could lead me to do all my dishes all the time, but I don't think that is realistic, at least not at this point, and I feel like it's contributed to me being unhappy when I live in a gross, cluttered house full of ants (which happened in the first place I lived after college) or my roommate is always justifiably upset with me for not doing the dishes (which happened in the second place).

It was a major load off my mind when I started going out to eat by myself.  I had almost never done this before, and it can feel like a weird thing to do at first, but it's super great.  Before I started going out to eat I would often get takeout when I felt like cooking was too hard, but this wasn't a good solution because I still had dishes.  When I go out to eat I don't have to focus on anything before eating (getting groceries, cooking, etc.) or cleaning up anything after.  There are clear delineations for when the meal starts and ends.

Even more importantly, it replaces something that was a source of problems with something that makes me really happy.  I love going to diners and cafés, not just because I can eat something that would probably be too hard for me to make myself, but because I like the experience of being there.  It's similar to riding public transit--since I'm dressed and out of the house I'm pretty alert, but there isn't anything I really need to focus on, so I can use my alertness for whatever I want.  I can read, write, and listen to and observe people around me.  This is something that makes my life better at any time of the day, but it's especially nice to start the day like that.

In fact, my initial motivation for going to diners and cafés was happiness, not doing the dishes.  This was because I had a realization about the Stamford Museum and Nature Center.  SM&NC is a place where I spent a lot of time when I was growing up and have a lot of memories of.  My parents brought me to lots of classes and events there, we would volunteer at events, and my dad and I led a hike there every fall for about 19 years.

My priorities in adult life have pretty much always been: 1)survival (getting up in the morning, going to work, eating), 2)lofty goals (writing, reading, having meaningful relationships), and 3)short term pleasure (sleeping, mushing out, or anything else that takes no effort to do).  But last year I came to the pretty obvious realization that SM&NC wasn't just automatically part of my life--my parents had decided that it would be fun to be involved there.  This is why people do things that take effort and don't seem to have an obvious benefit, like going on vacation.  It actually is a good feeling to plan and make time and put in effort just to do something fun.  It's also a different kind of fun from falling into bed at night or running into Walgreens to buy candy on the way to work.  You can enjoy it more if you scheduled the fun.

Obviously, these are just the things that have made me feel better and function better this year, and won't necessarily work or be affordable for other people.  But I wanted to explain and share them in case they could give other disabled people some hope about making daily life easier.  Seriously, I feel way happier and my face doesn't hurt, and that's quite a thrill.

05 December, 2011

important lifestyle change!

I've decided to stop trying to have an even skin tone

just like I don't have to pretend to be a genius because I have bad brains, I also don't have to go over my face with a fine-toothed metaphorical comb, especially because I have rosacea, and hiding that will take my entire life.

if you have the kind of stunned/stumbling mind that I have, having to have an even skin tone before you are officially "dressed" means that getting dressed never happens and you float around in pajamas for really long periods of time. people need to be dressed. at least I do. it does take a long time and sometimes it's like, "because of the amount of time it took to get dressed, I'm not going to do anything today anyway." but my lifestyle change is totally chopping some minutes off the getting dressed torture!

I'd also like to point out as an aside how horrible it is when you do spend your entire life putting on makeup and then later in the day it starts to look kind of like a mask, this is awful, it makes me feel awful, I am 23.

new lifestyle:

cover up anything on my face that looks like the exit wound from a bullet
lipstick/lipgloss
now ready to put on clothes