Darkness Until Dawn

     You try not to think about it. You tell yourself that everyone goes through these things. But then you worry. What if something happens, you say to yourself? Can I predict the future? What if I don't get that job or that promotion? What if I say the wrong thing? Do I have the money to make it go away? And what about the next time? And the time after that? What will it be then? Will I have the ace up my sleeve? What will I do when I can't make it go away? Where will I run? Will tomorrow be the day my luck runs out? Will I get hit by a bus, get robbed? Will the kidnapper that abducted and killed someone from just down the street pick me next time? I drive by that place almost every time I go out. Granted, I didn't know those people, but what if I had been there when he came in with a gun? what would I have done? They're both dead now. 

  Nonono, you can deduct the stolen acorns as a casualty loss, not a business loss.

    I am closing the tax and bookkeeping business permanently for health reasons. I look forward to working again soon.

     I think there is a fundamental misunderstanding of autism in the community. There is a gap of understanding that creates unrealistic expectations. It leaves me chasing shadows. So long as that gap exists, I will always fall short. It is a self-fulfilling prophecy: to believe in the impossible so that you can fail.       Why is it impossible? Autistic social behavior is different. It leads to miscommunication and in a field like tax, communication is important. Hypothetically, if I could simply do the taxes and have someone else do all the communicating, including the nonverbal communication, then it could work. If I could be a puppet master, and have a puppet interact with bosses and clients, then yes, I could do taxes.      Unfortunately that's not how the world works. I'm tired of trying to explain the obvious to people with closed ears. It's like screaming at a wall. There's no medication for this. There's no machine. There's sim...

     Spidey tought dat di bat would lose intewest qwuickly. Apter all, it was a small house, a bunch ob mispits, and not anudder bat nor castle nor cabe.       “I thought it vould look better from the rafters.” A voice echoed from above.      Dat bat. Can’t appweciate a good cobweb. He was looking more awake and he would get this funny look in his eye when he got hungry.      “You know… a few careful torches could really vamp up the place. I was known for my style back in zee Western Wood.” He paused as if for questions. When none came, he continued anyways. “It was quite a majestic place. Uncle Boromir used to be quite fond of telling us stories, so much so that we began to call him Uncle Bor. He never quite figured out vhy. So one day, when he was putting us to sleep with his tales of the crypt - he used to put himself to sleep all the time, let me tell you- we snuck out inbetween bouts of consciousness, and we flew into...

    They say life has seasons. I think that is very true for someone like me. I think I'm moving into a new season, putting the past behind. This season I am focusing on fixing my financial situation by reducing consumption.     I'm not the one who is the smiling gladhander. I don't have the personality or the talent for it. I will never be Mr. Popular. I do believe we have destinies of sorts. Mine lies in written expression.      I'm continuing to look for a day job while exploring my creative ideas. Hopefully, they will come to me in due time. I have hit the limits of the medication. It's time to be my natural self.