Hyper-Sensative

I used to take pride in the fact that I heard everything and could figure out what it was, that I could tell where my wife had been by the smells that clung to her coat and hair. The volume knob on my senses is boosted a little higer than the average neurotypical. I understand that those of us in the "spectrum" are either hyper-sensative or hypo-sensative.

Did you like my cool buzzzzzz word? I'm in the spectrum (Autism Spectrum Disorder - ASD). Are you? This is the first time that I've ever been in. I was in the band Sojourn for nearly 15 years and I never felt like I was in the local music scene really, let alone a cool in singer guy.

I wish that I could turn the hyper-sensative part off whenever I wanted. When I walk into the men's room at work and I'm greeted by an odious cloud (i.e. it stanks), I can barely get out fast enough. Problem here. While at work it is incumbant upon me to exhibit a certain professionalism and also try and be as neruotypical acting as possible. I can't yell "Ugh" and bolt out of the men's panting and realling once I've made my escape. That kind of behavior could have career limiting consequences.

Today, I walked into the men's room to . . . alright I just say it. . . use the urinal. Well, the sink is right next to the urinal and there is only this little tiny wall in between. I don't do the whole, "Let's be naked together!" thing, and that includes hanging out with guys peeing or showering together. . .

I remember once I was at a county fair grounds, and I went to go . . . how do you say urinate politely. . . to take a tinkle. The "men's room" was a cinder block shed, and the one urinal was sort of an 8 foot long trough with water running on one end and a drain on the other. Who came up with that? It certainly wasn't an Aspie or some one in the Spectrum, I'll tell you that much. "Hey guys, I have an idea. Let's all drop our pants, stand next to each other, and pee in a trough!" Now you know why our society has problems, it's people that design eight foot urinals are also comming up with the Clapper or plaid polyester pants.

Anyway, so I walk into the bathroom and some one is at the sink. So, that means I have to step into a stall and wait until they leave, and then use the urinal. I felt like an infantryman in a cloud of mustard gas in World War I, the smell was so bad.

Maybe I should stop here.

Perhaps the point is. . .I'm not sure.

My wife did by me a pocket size can of Oust Dioderizer spray. I think I should just start carying it with me.

Adam