My life as an autist is exhausting.
Hardly a day goes by without an event that drains my reserves of strength.
Be it the tram that breaks down and makes me play the routine for being late, or the oddly hazy sky that makes the sun shine brightly,
Whether it’s an annoying letter that requires me to send some documents within two weeks, or the doctor’s office that replies to my e-mail (!), that I should phone them to make an appointment.
Be it the reckless neighbour who thinks he has to play music on Sundays at 12:00 (!) with the window open or the goods in the supermarket, once again in another place.