Crunch Week, With Ducks

This last week felt like a marathon run at a sprinter’s pace. My work schedule became something of a crunch just as I was finishing up the last week of my school semester. But finish it I did, and all of my work, too; there just wasn’t much time for anything else.

I did go to Pride last weekend, which was my first time. And it was fun, but very…overwhelming. I felt like I was constantly immersed in waves of people, and the sound system for the staged events was ridiculously loud (and I was wearing earplugs). If I wanted to be close enough to be able to see the stage, I had to put up with a volume level that threatened to give me a headache. I don’t understand how anyone could stand it, to be honest—especially the people who were even closer. I’m still happy that I went, but it was hard to enjoy it as much as I wanted to.

So I started my week feeling already a bit fried. Then I had a number of “extras” sprinkled throughout my schedule for the week—one-off events, or monthly appointments—that filled in a lot of the time and also made me feel continually pulled from one thing to the next. That also tends to leave me feeling fried. So here I am at the end of the week, trying to remember what it is I wanted to write about, and deciding I’ll just write about feeling fried.

This weekend is a busy one, too, and Monday is looking like a bear, but at least after that my schedule “should” be easing up now that my classes are done. But there are so many things that I’ve been wanting to get back to, or wanting to make time for, and I keep saying, “Ok, over the summer I’ll…” I want to make sure I don’t let those things slide, but I also need to give myself time to decompress from this latest crunch time.

Luckily, our beautiful land is full of spring wildlife, and the pond in particular has been a source of relaxing visuals and lovely sounds. (Although around dusk, those sounds can really ramp up. If you haven’t heard it, you’d be amazed at how ear-splitting a pond full of frogs can be.) I can’t help but take moments throughout the day to pause and look out at all of it.

So, here: have some ducks. In the past couple of years, we’ve had wood ducks bringing up ducklings in our pond, but this year it’s the mallards who have been around the most. Hoping for ducklings either way, though!

Pair of mallard ducks standing at the edge of a pond

Webinar: Starting Your Own Business

I have an exciting announcement! I will be hosting a free webinar on April 4, 2018, as part of a series by the Asperger/Autism Network (AANE). The series is aimed at autistic young adults (age 17-24) with an overall theme of fostering independence, and my webinar in particular will be about starting a business. Here are the details:

Starting Your Own Business: Turn Your Passions Into Profits

April 4, 2018
1:00 – 2:30 pm EDT

Have you ever thought about starting your own business, perhaps turning a passionate interest into paid work you love to do? It might sound intimidating, but it’s not as hard as it sounds. If you’ve ever wanted to work for yourself, either full- or part-time, but didn’t know where to start, this is the webinar for you. We’ll explore the pros and cons of self-employment, as well as practical tips for getting started.

Topics will include:
• How to decide if self-employment is for you
• Defining your business and making a plan
• Understanding business structures and funding options
• Selling your own or others’ products
• Selling your services as a freelancer
• Marketing your business
• Accounting and tracking your finances
• What you should know about taxes
• Resources and tips for getting started

Starting Your Own Business: Helene Grogan is a late-diagnosed autistic woman who works as an AANE LifeMAP coach, helping other adults on the spectrum reach their goals for independent living. Over the years she has started businesses selling crafts, doing freelance computer consulting and web design, and publishing her own writing. She also worked for ten years as the office manager for a small internet-based company, which provided a great deal of insight into running a small, home-based business.

You can register for it here.

Work But Not “Work”

I realized something while I was driving to school for classes this past Thursday: I work really hard. Like, really hard. I had two journal entries, two longer papers, a test and a quiz due this week, and I got them all done early. This was on top of actually going to class, putting in all of my work hours, making progress on my novel, taking karate classes, working on crafts, and spending at least half an hour per day on my spiritual practice. Oh, plus walking the dogs and spending time with my spouse.

I actually do find time to relax; I played a video game for about two hours this afternoon, and I usually unwind with a movie or a good TV show in the evening. It’s just that there are a lot of things I like to do, and so I tend to get a lot of things done. But it takes a lot of work.

I am constantly, relentlessly, aware of the next thing that I need to do, prioritizing and reprioritizing as things come up during the week. (This is one reason I hate for my plans to be interrupted, or to have things scheduled at the last minute; it’s hugely disruptive to the map I already have in my head.) When I had that realization in the car on Thursday, my mind felt like steel: tempered and honed, cutting through unnecessary distractions. And I realized that it’s like that a lot.

So I work really hard, and I’m good at the things I do. But I am finally coming to terms with the fact that I am vastly unsuited to having a full-time job, or even a part-time job that takes a significant amount of energy. I haven’t had a full-time job since I burned out around the age of thirty; I cut my hours to part time before finally leaving that job, and I’ve only worked part time since. And even that stressed me out before I found my current remote position, which at least allows me to work from home and have some control over my hours.

Part of the problem is that both my energy levels and my ability to focus vary during the day, and from day to day during the week. That’s one reason I enjoy doing a lot of different things: when words are flowing, I can get highly absorbed in writing; when my brain is tired, I can make something with my hands instead. Working at a job where my hours are set and I need to do the same thing every day regardless of how I’m feeling or where my interest is focused is just…exhausting. Add to that the sensory and social aspects of an office environment, and it’s no wonder it’s a recipe for burnout.

What I’d like to do instead is build up ways to support myself with my own projects (really, for my husband and I to support ourselves with all of our various projects, since he’s also very creative and hard-working). It’s just slow going—and additionally hard when you throw in the need to have some kind of job(s) in the meantime. We need alternatives to the current structure of “work,” to be honest; whenever I try to think of ways to improve the employment experience of autistic people, it always comes down to, “Well, work just shouldn’t suck so much.” And that would be better for everyone.

Changing My Routine

I’m enjoying a little time off at the moment; I’m in between school semesters, and my primary job hasn’t had any projects for me for the past couple of weeks. That means I’m going to have a light paycheck or two, but it’s been really refreshing to have time to read things outside of coursework, and to work on projects that have allowed me to really dive deep in a way I haven’t been able to for a while. It’s been good.

I am also trying to use this time to change up my daily routine, specifically how I structure my mornings and evenings. I tend to find this really difficult; I realize it’s hard for most people to change their habits, but on top of that, I don’t really have a set daily routine. So it’s not just a matter of changing what I do at various times, it’s getting myself to maintain a routine in the first place.

That feels ironic to me, because so much has been said about the fondness we autistic people have for our routines, and how little we like it when things change. In some ways I’m no different, but at the same time I like to have flexibility in my schedule as well. Some days I have more energy, or more creativity, or more ability to focus, and I’d prefer to be able to take advantage of those days in a way that makes sense, instead of having to do the same exact thing every day.

So while I do prefer “sameness” when it comes to doing the things I do (e.g., I like to do them in the same way, and I dislike being blocked from doing them that way, or stopped from doing them at all when I had planned to), that doesn’t always translate into routine. Unless I have some external pressure, like a fixed starting time for my work day, I just don’t maintain a daily routine.

To some degree, I really can’t; the fact that my job doesn’t always provide consistent work means that I don’t have the same schedule from day to day. My class schedule is not the same every day, either—and on days when I have class and work, I have to arrange my schedule differently in order to fit everything in. Add to this the aforementioned preference for paying attention to my varying energy/creativity/focus levels, and I much prefer to vary things as necessary.

I do like some degree of predictability, though, at least on a week-by-week basis. I hate last-minute scheduling that adds something new on the same day, and if I have to reschedule something I would rather push it out to the next week than try to fit it into a week I already have laid out in my head. Because I do — I can see the “fixed points” of the coming week laid out ahead of me like an obstacle course. That gives me some idea of how to fit other work in around them, and some sense of which will be my busy days. When I wake up in the morning, too, I automatically start reviewing those fixed obligations, to get a feel for how I need to time everything else, like work and study and meals and dog walking. Adding in another commitment, even (ugh) a phone call, can throw that timing right off, and everything needs to be reshuffled.

I think most people don’t realize how much effort it takes to do all that reshuffling in my head when the “fixed points” get moved. They probably see me as inflexible when really I’m just overwhelmed because I know how much energy it takes — and that’s extra energy on top of what I need to actually do the things on my schedule. So as soon as I hear about last-minute schedule changes, I’m already spinning out all of the contingencies that ripple out from that change, all the things that need to be rearranged from the carefully-timed plan. It usually all works out (I try not to schedule myself too tightly) but until I’ve got a new plan, I’m anxious. And the less time I’m given to fit in the new thing, the more anxious I get.

Unfortunately, I don’t often get the level of predictability I would prefer, and that is one thing I would really like to change about my work situation. But since I do have this downtime now, I am hoping that I can set up some morning and evening habits that will start to feel established before my obstacle course of a schedule gets filled up again.

Snow and Grit

Snow-covered hemlock branches

On days like this I really enjoy working from home. No worrying about when the snow will start, or whether I will be able to get back up my hilly street to come home. Instead I can sit by the window and watch the snow fall, while quietly working on my laptop.

I work part-time as a software tester. Today was a mix of finishing up writing test cases on a new project and beginning actual testing. I always like that transition; I enjoy test-case writing quite a bit, but by the end of writing I am usually a little bit fried and very much ready to switch gears. The time passed quickly today, and left me with energy to work on my own studies and projects.

Not all work projects are like that, by the way. Some leave me completely drained by the end of the same number of hours, with little brain power left for creative pursuits or even reading. That’s one reason I’m happy to keep my hours at part-time levels; I encountered Autistic burnout several years ago — before I even knew I was Autistic — and I still struggle with maintaining my energy levels over the course of a workday, especially if there is any level of stress involved.

This brings to mind something that my therapist and I talked about once. She said that after hearing about my childhood and younger adulthood, she felt that I had approached life with a certain amount of grit. I had pushed through my difficulties in order to get where I wanted to go, sometimes to the point that I hadn’t even acknowledged those difficulties — I had just gone and done it. But after a certain point, I just didn’t have the resources to keep gritting my way through things. That’s when my strategy changed to creating a life where I didn’t need so much grit.

This involved a lot of choices that sometimes felt like failures: I quit a lucrative job and essentially short-circuited any career options I might have had. I moved to an area that was quieter but offers many fewer career opportunities, and chose to work only part-time at a very simple office job I was highly over-qualified for. Eventually even that job felt like too much of a strain, and I again felt like I was a failure, that I couldn’t handle even that.

But what was really happening was that I was building the life I needed. Yes, I have a lot less money than I would have at my old job, but I chose that over continuing to burn myself out. Yes, I am not on a defined career track, but I am free to follow my own creative pursuits and see where they lead me. And yes, I had to leave even that “easy” office job, but that moved me out of an emotionally charged work environment and into a job I actually enjoy, one that I can (usually) do from home.

I’m not where I thought I might end up when I gritted my way through a physics degree at a very well-known university, and sometimes I feel like I should have “accomplished” more — but I love where I am and what I have in my life. If I can’t easily describe that life to others with an easy label, well, then I guess they’ll just have to get to know me as the Eclectic Autistic that I am. 🙂

When the Work Is Easy, But the Workplace Is Hard

I am leaving a job I’ve worked at for almost ten years, and it’s been causing some introspection…which I have chosen to inflict on all of you. 🙂

I work for a small business with a handful of other people, and our workplace is in a section of the business owners’ private home. The owners are a husband and wife team, with the husband being the more involved of the two at this point. The business is an online retail store, so I’ve been doing a mix of managing orders, email customer service, and website maintenance like putting new items online.

I took this job (as part-time, easy office work) after burning out at a corporate tech-sector job earlier. I was way over-qualified, but the flexible hours gave me time to pursue my own creative projects in my spare time, and the relaxed work environment let me wear what I liked and listen to music and podcasts while I did the more repetitive of my daily tasks. (And best of all, I didn’t have to answer the phone!) But it still ended up wearing me down.

See back there, where I wrote “relaxed work environment”? In truth, it ended up not being as relaxed as it seemed at first. Here are five things that started to get to me over time, mostly without me knowing it.

1. Open-plan office.
Open-plan offices are unfriendly to anyone with sensory issues, as well as to introverts who are drained by social contact, and to anyone doing work that requires high levels of concentration. Having even three or four people working in the same room vastly increases the amount of general background noise as well as the likelihood of interruptions and distractions. Being able to close an office door is ideal, but I’ve even done better in a cubicle environment where at least visual distractions are somewhat minimized. But background noise is still a possible issue there.

2. Background noise.
Today I jotted down a few of the things going on in the background that made my work environment noisy. Some are a bit idiosyncratic because (as I mentioned above) I work in a business run out of someone’s home, but many of these are just as common in corporate office settings.

Air conditioner. Coworker typing. Boss on phone. Wife clattering pans downstairs, and speaking very loudly to a visitor. Boss off the phone, now two people typing. Phone ringing again.

That was the background of about a five-minute span in the late morning — and this was a normal day, not the weekly cleaning day when the vacuum is going downstairs, or a week when they’re having work done on the house and there is scraping, hammering, or power-tool noise added to the mix. It made a big difference when I started wearing noise-canceling headphones in the office, but depending on the number of legitimate interruptions I encounter, I may have to take them off quite frequently.

3. Constant interruptions.
I get asked a lot of questions during the course of my day. Some of this is necessary to collaborate with my boss and coworkers, some is because I have a better memory than my boss and he wants to double-check something, and some is because I know the computer systems better than he does, so if there is a problem I’m more likely to know how to fix it. But despite the fact that I am usually wearing large, highly-noticeable headphones these days, no one can remember to give me a second of lead time — by saying my name, for example — so I can hit pause on whatever I’m listening to and/or take them off. They just start talking, and I have to grab for the pause button, lift them off, and ask them to start again. This causes additional anxiety for me, because I worry about whether I’m inconveniencing them (yes, I know), plus it makes me feel rushed.

And on a day like today, where there was a lot of background noise requiring me to have my headphones on for comfort, it was especially annoying to have a long stretch of time where every time I put the ‘phones back on, my boss would ask another question and I’d have to take them off again. (His voice is a little hard to hear through them, or I’d leave them on.) The only consolation there was that a lot of the questions were directly related to my imminent departure from this job, so I could enjoy that aspect of it. 🙂

4. The phone. The $#@$**& phone.
This is really just a repeat of part of #2, as my job doesn’t require me to actually answer the phone here — but it rings too damned much. Partly this is because I work, again, in a business set in someone’s home, so personal calls, business calls, and spammy sales calls are all mixed together. And the fact that it is so disruptive even though answering it is not part of my job speaks to the poor office design; I really only need to know the phone rang if I need to take action because of it.

5. Tense, uncomfortable (at times even toxic) emotional atmosphere.
The specifics here are likely to be, well, specific to this job, but toxic work environments can exist for many different reasons, in many different settings. Office politics and personal grudges can create hostile environments, whether they are directed at you or just occurring adjacent to you. In my case, the discomfort comes from working in the home of a couple with a pretty strained relationship (to put it nicely) and an apparent inability to maintain healthy boundaries between work and home life. Being highly sensitive to other people’s moods and stress levels, I become extremely stressed myself when things get prickly between them, and I end up with tight shoulders and chronic pain in my jaw.

I have learned to speak up about all of these things (even my bosses’ personal issues when they inappropriately impact the workplace), but things have a sort of inertia, a default state they settle into. You can shift the center of gravity for a little while, but it will eventually settle back into its previous equilibrium. And it was only when I realized (almost a year ago now) that I am Autistic that I started to understand more about why I was getting so stressed and fatigued from what should have been an easy job. That led me to figure out some accommodations, but a) a lot of wear-and-tear on my psyche had already taken place, and b) there were only so many changes I could make that were acceptable to my boss. It ended up being a case of too little, too late.

It is worth noting, however, that over the past year I also came to realize how many of my Autistic traits contributed to the high quality of my work in this office. My attention to detail was constantly useful, allowing me to not only make fewer mistakes but also to catch others’ mistakes before they caused problems. My ability to notice patterns led me to spot a string of fraudulent purchases before too much damage was done, and my preference for efficiency led to some major streamlining of our workflow. It’s too bad so many offices are set up in such a way as to drive away talented employees, Autistic or not.

Approaching Accommodations

Now that I finally understand that I am autistic, and can point to at least some of the ways in which that has affected my life, I am able to rethink many of my experiences in new ways. Like many other people whose autism went unrecognized until adulthood, I feel able to look back with new eyes, especially on those places where I struggled. Just as with words, meaning changes with context.

I am also starting to think about how I can bring that understanding into my present work and home life. Now that I know (at least a little better) what kinds of support and/or accommodations I might need, how can I go about creating or asking for them?

Up until this point, I have gone through life without accommodations — or rather, it would be more accurate to say that I have made self-accommodations. My relationships, my living arrangements, and my employment choices have all been influenced by my own sense of what worked for me and what did not. In most situations I have made changes when I felt things reach a breaking point, rather than continuing on and getting, well, broken.

But the trouble is, outside the context of disability, self-accommodation can easily look like failure; you just can’t handle the things other people seem to be able to. Even asking for accommodation (again, without that context) will often be seen as complaining. And gaining this context for myself doesn’t always help when it comes to support I need from other people, especially in situations where I am not sure how much to disclose.

And now… I’m not sure what else I want to say at this point; I only got this far by sort of thinking out loud. The main thing is that I don’t really know how to do this — after all, I grew up not knowing I even had a disability. And I’m sure that as I start to ask for the things I need, some people will interpret that as meaning that I’m not disabled enough to need supports. It’s a vicious circle.

Of course, the ideal situation would be if everyone, disabled or not, could ask for what they need without being seen as a whiner, a troublemaker, or a burden. We all have our strengths and weaknesses, as well as preferences for how we can do our best work. So let’s just build that world, and this whole question will be moot. Easy peasy. 😉