It was the last day of my semester-time only job today; this morning I reset my "Get Up" and "Leave Now" phone alarms to 06:20 and 07:14 on the 27 September.
Last year, after the initial delight of being paid to stay at home wore off, I crashed rather spectacularly. Turns out being trapped alone in a tiny flat for months on end is not great even when you're autistic. Add to that the horror of watching a government actively trying to kill people and it was not a happy time.
This is why, on a desperate impulse three days before the start of term last year, I signed up for university - free money, something to do, a temporary avoidance of a customer-facing job - and it was also why I started blogging again come January.
In 2020, time went very weird. It stopped functioning; or maybe that was me. Anyway, at Christmas I was still adrift so I decided to try blogging every day just to try and pin time down, fix it back into its proper position - make it a discrete flow of days, like beads on a rosary, rather than one formless, horrifying, frogspawn mass. Assigning myself this small daily task - take a photo, write something - to provide some direction and the illusion of control.
And now we're 169 days into the year, days which have more or less resumed their correct form, thanks to uni and getting up and going to work every day and doing this blog.
Except two of those things are no longer here to prop me up. I'm at the start of another summer that looks just as scary as the last one.
Only the blog can save me now.
Today's Photo: Back Of A Bus
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