#031 Marijuana Blues in a Blue Zone
The smell of marijuana woke me up at 5:30 in the morning. Second-hand marijuana smoke gives me...
At the grocery store, the cashier might ask if I just put a rutabaga on the conveyor belt, and I’ll answer so oddly and nervously that it sounds like it’s actually a rutabaga-disguised bomb. Then, I might try to make up for it with some “I’m a normal person, really I am” type of banter that might or might not do the job. I never know which.
I’m a late diagnosed and high-masking autistic woman. This is the perspective because I can't help it, plus, I want other autistics to know they aren’t alone and unseen. I want non-autistics to see and understand.
I won’t say I notice everything, but I have a nose for details that baffles my husband. This is an awful thing to have sometimes, sometimes not. I also think a lot, which means that I often figure things out before anyone else does. It might come off like a rutabaga-disguised bomb, but there’s always a lot of intention in it.
The smell of marijuana woke me up at 5:30 in the morning. Second-hand marijuana smoke gives me...
Breathing hurts. My glands are swollen. I have a fever. My stomach hurts. My bones hurt. My brain...
I did a tarot reading back in early November, and it very clearly said I was ending a...
I have some content for you. The first is a written interview I did for a newsletter series...
Dylan seemed good. He was even bouncing up the stairs in his trademark way. We’d finally figured...
When I first started college, I struggled with in-person interaction so much that I went online to find...
I was tired of Japan. It was so vegan unfriendly. A bunch of vegan restaurants went under during...