The Autistic Me

Before school started, my wife and I purchased a bright yellow 49cc scooter that qualifies as a "moped" in Minnesota. This has a number of benefits, not the least of which is that you can park a moped in a bike rack legally, while a motorcycle must park in a designated space or among cars. Why the exact same size 125cc cycle can't park in the same places as our scooter escapes me, but that's an issue for elected officials. The first day I tried to ride the scooter to school was a disaster. It kept dying along the way and eventually I called for help. The stress increased after we drove to a suburb, bought a trailer-hitch tow kit, and the scooter was too big for the tow platform. Calling the motorcycle dealership resulted in a towing company taking the scooter back to the shop for a few days. The fuel filter was replaced and the scooter was overhauled. When it was delivered for the second time, everything was much better, though not perfect. Unfortunately,

I need routines, and this school year (as well as the move to the Midwest in general) has already been playing havoc with my routines. Plus, I simply don't like the claustrophobia I am experiencing in the city. Today was tough. I held on as long as I could, but eventually my body gave out an hour before my last class ended. Maybe it was even sooner than that. I was starting to bloat, which I've never understood but think might relate to pain. I get an upset stomach, acidic and burning, so there must be a correlation. I was shaking, had a headache, and felt lousy overall. I just wanted to get off campus and eat something non-spicy. The way I try to make it through each day is by telling myself that eventually I won't be here. I'll be back in what I consider normal. I want my dinner at 5 or 6, not 8:30 p.m. twice a week. That's hard on my system. I want to sleep eight hours more than two days a week. I want merge lanes longer than the width of an overpass.