I’m going back to work in another hour. Sigh. It’s been wonderful, having this past week (+ 1 day) to myself, to read and write and study and think and not do much of anything.
But it’ll be nice to get back to my regular schedule, too.
I’ve missed having a regular schedule. My partner isn’t on one. She sleeps when she wants and gets up when she wants, and she doesn’t mind eating at different times of the day. Me, I need my schedule. My routine. My predictability. I have a lot going on, and I have a lot of input inundating me, each and every day. So, I don’t have a lot of extra processing resources to sort through the constantly changing variables of a schedule-less life.
I can get more done when I’ve got a timetable and deadlines — as witnessed by my utter inability to complete just a few simple tasks I’d intended to handle during my time off. Once I got away from the structure, everything fell to pieces. Not in a bad way. Just in a disjointed, somewhat “free flowing” (cringe) way.
I’m not a fan of “free flowing” stuff. “Going with the flow” gives me the heebie-jeebies. That’s the technical term for a stomach-knotting anxiety that makes my skin feel like something’s crawling on it, and makes it next to impossible to think.
I really need my routine.
Of course, ideally, I’d have a routine that doesn’t involve dragging myself out into the non-autistic world to contend with all the lack of awareness, the callousness, the cruelty, the thoughtlessness, the sensory overload. Ideally, I wouldn’t have to subject myself to all that for the sake of a paycheck. I’d work out a routine that works for me, and I’d follow it, each and every day. With discipline. And rigor. And productivity-fueled enthusiasm.
It’s a goal.
Anyway, I see time is getting away from me, and I’ve got get moving and get ready for work. I’ve shuffled some of my morning commitments, so I don’t have to plunge myself into the 8:00 a.m. commuter crush. I can get my shower, take my first conference call at home, and then head into the office when everyone has moved along. I like this plan. It works.
And that’s a good way to start back.
It’s unavoidable, so I might as well make the most of it. There’s something good in there to feed me.
Had I mentioned, I love my routine? 😉