I’m not going into the office today. Oh, no. Not today. It’s Monday. I’ll work, sure, but not in that damn’ office, in that damn’ cubicle, surrounded by those damn’ people. It’s much easier for me to do the sort of work I need to do, if I have peace and quiet and isolation. I’ve got some research to do. I can’t do that, with a steady stream of strangers stomping past my cubicle.
People ask me, sometimes, if I would ever disclose being autistic at work, so I can get accommodations. The answer is always “no”. I don’t expect my employer to offer me any accommodations, to be honest. The environment I work in is highly demanding, and they expect people to cover for themselves, not expect someone else to handle things for them. It’s a “tough luck” environment, where everybody — and I mean everybody — is expected to take care of themselves and not put additional strains on the existing infrastructure and overall team cohesiveness by expecting special treatment.
There’s a guy who’s missing an ear who simply puts a large bandage over one side of his head and goes about his regular business. The woman who worked in the cubicle before me died of lung cancer and refused to take time off while she was declining — until she was literally unable to work anymore. There are folks with significant physical disabilities walking the halls, and that’s just part of it. People show them consideration, but they don’t get a whole lot of special treatment. And autistic folks abound. We’re everywhere, at that place, but nobody actually ever mentions autism.
There aren’t a lot of official accommodations offered. I can’t get the fluorescent lights turned off over my cube, because that will short out the whole floor (according to Facilities). I don’t have a lot of control over the temperatures in the place. The scented diffuser in the restroom is non-negotiable. So, like everyone else, I have to fend for myself. Just like everyone else.
If you don’t like the noise in the space, you’re expected to put on noise-canceling headphones and concentrate harder. If you don’t like the temperature in the place, put on a sweater. Or wear something lighter. If you get overwhelmed by things, you’re expected to step away for a little while to unwind (a lot of people do that). If you have issues with sensory stuff, you’re expected to just roll with it, do what you need to do for yourself, and keep up. Just keep up. And when it all gets to be too much, you work from home. Like I’m doing today.
It might sound like a harsh environment (and in some ways it is), but the bottom line is, we’re all given the opportunity to manage our own situations…. Not throw the whole workplace into disarray because of a few unique requirements. We’re expected to be grown-up about things and arrange for what we need. Everybody’s got unique requirements, so rather than having the Overlords provide for your safety and comfort by official edict and codified guidelines, you’re afforded the right to determine your own conditions under the circumstances that everyone shares.
And I actually like that better than the formal accommodations thing. Because my needs change from day to day, and the help I need one day, might be “overkill” the next. This way, I just manage my own situation, and the work gets done.
So, today, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Managing my own situation.
I’ll make sure to get a nap this afternoon. I woke up tired, and I’ll be even more tired by this evening. I was out late last night, trying to see the aurora borealis in the northern sky. The plan didn’t work out. No northern lights were to be seen — just some brightness behind clouds in the distance. But it was fun to get out in the evening with my sweetie and just hang out.
The whole weekend was tiring, now that I think about it. I did a lot of non-standard hanging out. I wrote some pretty solid work both Saturday and Sunday mornings. On Saturday, I spent the afternoon visiting with a friend. Then on Sunday my partner and I went to see another friend compete in a dressage competition. Her horse is beautiful, and it was fun to get out to a different part of the world for a day. I was expecting a lot of moneyed people to be there, since dressage tends to be “high-end”. But there were just little groups of everyday people like me. And my partner got a chance to actually chat with other people, instead of being stuck with task-oriented me.
I know for a fact, I can be trying in those situations. I have a really hard time relaxing in public, especially when it’s a hot, bright, sunny day and I’m in a new and unfamiliar location. It’s just hard. So, it’s good for my partner to get to stop and chat with others, widen her world beyond my fretting about getting everything done in a specific order. Changes in routine can’t stop me from just living my life. Nor should they stop my partner from living her life, as well.
Yeah, it’s hard… so…? Everything worthwhile is hard for me. That just makes it worth more to me, when I manage to get it right.
But then, the exhaustion.
But then, the self-management. The self-accommodation.
I took naps, when I got home from both of my social outings. I just lay down in the bed and relaxed and slept. Then I did the usual — got up, made supper, ate supper.
Last night, I changed up my usual Sunday routine again, and we went out to see if the northern lights were going to show up as predicted.
They didn’t show up in the 90 minutes we were out there, and in the end, I got too tired and we had to come home. My partner was really disappointed. She’d wanted so much to see them with me. To share that experience. But the space weather didn’t comply. For me, it was good enough, just hanging out.
Now it’s Monday. I’m tired, but I’m happy.
And I’m going to take really good care of myself, today.