I love watching something slowly coming together over a period of time. Each new line of code, each new function, little building blocks. Then when it’s finished you can stand back and say “I helped do that!” and be proud. I don’t want my name on it if it doesn’t represent the best I could do.
I like searching the code to track down and eliminate an illusive bug, or trying to work out how to make something work, trying to determine the cleanest design. Somehow I feel that my effort makes it more valuable. Like the difference between a hand built Aston Martin panel and a stamped out panel from some other car company.
I like taking something that already works and making it better. Completely unchanged on the outside, infinitely better on the inside.
I like working with people as passionate as I am about doing a good job, who get as excited as me when they see something work.
This week I attended my first aspie group drop in.
It was in the evening and so work during the day helped to keep my mind from over thinking it, although I had stimmed for most of the day and made my thumbs hurt from rubbing and scratching them. Coming home and getting ready to go out was a change to my routine and that also stressed me out a bit, putting on jeans after I’d had a shower on a work night. That might seem daft to you, but it just added to my anxiety. Up until the point when I was in the lift going up to the floor on which it was hosted, it was still not a sure thing that I was going, but I convinced myself (with a Lil’ bit of help) that I could manage an hour and so I went.
It really wasn’t what I expected.
I guess I just thought I’d go in and there would be a bunch of other people like me and I’d be able to sit down and converse about stuff that I was interested in and it would be so much easier than talking to other people. Maybe make some friends. I was very wrong. I was introduced to one table of people and then pretty much left to it. They all knew each other and that made it even more difficult. At first I just sat and stared at my feet, listening to the conversation taking place around me. I had worn my Superman snapback to help comfort me and I spent time snapping it open and closed. I had put plasters on my thumbs to stop me from making them more sore, but the plasters were no match for my fingers and didn’t put up much resistance in the face of the onslaught from my fingers.
None of the people were like me, they weren’t my age, we didn’t share interests. I tried a couple of times to join in the conversation, but failed. Eventually I started talking to one of the other people at the table who had not been saying much. I noticed that all of the other people had moved away. It was so hard. New people, new place. I might as well have been bolted to the chair, I couldn’t have moved. We talked about lots of things in an attempt to keep the conversation going, and eventually the time was up. I said goodbye, exited the building and headed back to my car.
I was really proud of myself for going and doing it and I have promised to go to then next one, so I will and I will try and sit near some other people and see if that helps. If it isn’t any better then I’m not going back. I will continue to find my own way.
After months of patient waiting, last week saw me take delivery of my new Golf R, Rebo (named by his Uncle Roy after the great Ortolan keyboardist).
I was a little sad to see the Millennium Falcon (Golf R32) go, but at the same time it never really felt like my car. It was the best I could do in my mad panic to rid myself of the Focus RS and every time I would see *my* RS pass me I would be a little sad. Rebo is mine. I chose every single aspect of him and he is awesome.
He has a smaller engine and is more fuel efficient, thanks to technological advanc… LMAO! Rebo is faaaaast. He has mahoosive alloys. He growls! He has an awesome Dynaudio system with 10 speakers driven by 10 individual amps. I will never tire of hearing the little noise when the video camera pops up when I’m reversing. And almost laughably, one of the things I missed most from the RS… an armrest. As crazy as that sounds, I spent months almost falling out of the drivers seat, groping around in the Falcon for an armrest that wasn’t there.
I was gutted that I didn’t get to go on my road trip to Liverpool, but I am hoping to get over to the ‘stone soon and I’m travelling to Cornwall to see my bro in November and that promises to be an amazing trip. My sister-in-law loves my driving, she does this really funny bit where she screams and closes her eyes and pretends to be scared, but really I know she loves it. I will get to Liverpool sooner or later.
The first drive to work and Mr Beemer made it known at the traffic lights that he wanted to race. I slipped Rebo into 1st, reved the engine and when the lights went green I pulled away like a normal driver with no noise or screeching tyres, leaving Mr Beemer looking every part the douchebag that he was as he sped off into the distance.