Spring storms in the South are poetic in their beauty and potential for destruction. When he is home on his computer, his headphones and screen act as barriers that prevent him from noticing anything outside his bubble, like the weather. If his connection isn’t interrupted and the power doesn’t blink, he doesn’t know when there is rain, thunder and lightning. Tonight, we had a nasty wave of storms. Because he was at work, he saw the light show in the sky. He felt the wind in his hair and the rain on his skin. He heard the slow rolling and sudden crackling of thunder. The benefits of working aren’t limited to economic and social. The awareness and sensory experience of the volatility and magnificence of nature is vital.
We are in the process of cutting cable television and relying on the Internet for our entertainment programming. The cable part of the move means nothing to him. He does not watch television. The Internet part of the move is having some bumps. Today began with a note taped to a chalkboard door that Dad promptly answered. I have no idea why he didn’t write on the chalkboard door.
His went to his grandfather’s for a short visit. His grandfather will work on projects around the house and he’ll watch while they chat. Today’s project is lawnmower repair, so his job will be getting the tool from the toolbox to his grandfather’s hand and then returning it to the box. His grandfather has a special talent for engaging whatever the current topic of perseveration is while I change the subject or ask stupid questions. “Do you think their armor smelled like sweat and urine?”
When he was younger and obsessed with all things space, I tried to learn new things to add to the endless chatter about a single topic. He always knew it already.
He woke up, showered and went to work. Everyone will be asleep when he comes home. He will game until people start waking up for the day. Then, he’ll go to bed. This is his normal. He has fun on the rare occasions that he gets out and does things, but they are few and far between.
He wants to be left alone today.
He has spent the day talking to a headset while staring at a monitor. It is what he is doing right now. His youngest brother likes to doodle. Today’s doodles:
He had to be at work at 11:30 this morning, so he was ready to leave the house at exactly that time. When he came home from work, he picked apart every bit of trash to make sure nothing of his was thrown away when I cleaned in his room today. He complained about me collecting his dirty laundry from his bedroom floor every day. “Sometimes, you wash clothes that I was planning to wear after my shift.” He is currently grumbling that his computer is offline and I must have unplugged something when I was cleaning his room. He should be in a better mood tomorrow. It’s his day off work.
Today was a noon until 8 pm shift. Consequently, he stepped out the door of our house at exactly noon. It is mystifying how his tardiness can be so exact, yet unpreventable. Now that he is home with an entire evening of gaming ahead of him, he is cheerful. He still prefers the night shift that has him home after midnight. Knowing his routines and preferences is easy. Understanding them requires a logic shift.
Second verse, same as the first.
Routines. Everything is easy when there is a routine.