015. ...sweet, sweet chilli then please...

(morning thoughts)

The young woman who takes my order shakes her head when I ask hopefully, in response to her enquiry about my condiment preference, if the mayo is vegan. The lacklustre back and forth movement threatens to dislodge the false lash, barely attached by a thread of glue, over her right eye. "Sweet, sweet, sweet chilli then please" I reply. Repetition is, I think, about putting distance between my inner monologue and my lips. The precarious hairy caterpillar is perched, ready to leap, between pupil and brow, turned up and away as though trying to escape her face.

I extend my phone to the machine to pay while she turns her back on me and crosses to the stainless steel trough under the heat lamp, scoops fries into a cardboard sleeve and while I'm waiting I see her hand reach for a salt shaker as large as a pawn from an oversized garden chess set. Lurching ahead, my imagination constructs a slow mo flash forward of her lash, shaken loose by vigorous salt shaking, tumbling down into my chips. On my phone screen, the little blue animated tick spins triumphantly but never more wrong, "APPROVED".

I particularly dislike the phrase "it's not for me" when it's applied to something untried. Or when people say "it's not my thing" but don't really know what kind of thing it is. I know with certainty that this additional garnish will take all the pleasure out of lunch. This isn't for me.

I was quite confident, going in, that an amusement park isn't my thing. I'm glad to have tested this. And now I know that I can just about manage a hectic afternoon of long neon, loud queues and tinny, tannoy pumped dance pop, provided that time is safely divided by a half time hour in a quiet hiding spot. Somewhere I can disappear into my head and shut the door with noise cancelling headphones and Arvo Part. The picnic bench at the end of Burger King's outdoor eating area worked. My hat pulled over my eyes, I lay down out of the way behind my various armour.

I'm forming an understanding of how I cope with overstimulation. I'm beginning to get a handle on how my head works. 

Kathleen and Gus loved the noise and thrills and I love seeing them so happy. I preferred the bus rides to and from the amusement park.

I went on one rollercoaster and didn't entirely lose the plot at any point.

I’m making progress.