Driven Duck Says: Work, Work, Work

By crikey, it's been a while since I've put a post in here. Life updates: I'm finally settled into my new apartment, still vehemently single, and still working in LP. What do all of these have in common? More alone time! Whoo hoo!

To be quite honest, the first few weeks of coming home to a quiet, ratless apartment and making real meals in my own kitchen have been quite wonderful. It's only when I go elsewhere, such as work, where this seems pathetic. All the isolation I don't feel in my quiet apartment or on my adventures alone comes up in droves when I'm at work. For instance, last Friday, one of the HR staff came over to LP to deliver invitations to a baby shower for one of the other HR folks. She wanted to make sure "the whole team" was included. She didn't even address me (actually, she averted her eyes), even though I helped out in HR through the busy holidays. I understand that the role of a temp excludes one from certain perks of being at a company, but to be excluded from "the whole team" was a jab I wasn't expecting to receive.

Let's also take yesterday, for example. We had a volunteer fair at work. I shopped around to see if I could find something meaningful to take up my time. One of the groups was handing out kids' backpacks to be filled with school supplies and returned. I asked to participate (mind you, this is a charitable cause, not for self benefit), but my request was met with, "Sorry, we don't have enough supplies for temps." I mean, I get it, but after working there for nearly a year, it feels strange to have felt like part of something only to be reminded that I'm not.

Right now, what's keeping me on edge about this job isn't that it could end soon but that it could keep going. My boss is going on maternity leave in November, which means I may be recruited to cover into next year. That's easily another six months in a position where there is literally no room to transition to part of "the team." I have really mixed feelings about this. I do get a steady paycheck; I don't get benefits of any kind. I have started to grow accustomed to the area's amenities and the people, but is it all just a grand cage?

Also in question is my trip to El Camino, which I had considered taking after my assignment expired. I don't know when or if it will expire. Some might say "Take the journey; live your dream!" while others would caution "Build your nest egg; journey later." The rumor is that I can only be a temp there for a total of 18 months, but who knows what validity lies in rumors? Either way, the state of things is that I'm getting paid to help out a team to which I don't belong, which makes me feel much lonelier among people than I do when I actually am alone. There's also the alienating issue of my coworkers assuming I'm not only straight but also a womanizer, but that's the subject of a different post altogether. In the mean time, there have been no official talks of extending my position past July 29th, only more rumors. If I have no other offers by then, I will stay; if my time is up with nowhere pressing to go, I will write for a month and walk El Camino in September, Insh'allah.

Introduction

I've found quite a few blogs written about Asperger's Syndrome, mostly by parents of children with the disorder, but surprisingly few actually written by those with the syndrome. While this may be great for parents, it sure doesn't help one's self esteem to be the subject of scientific scrutiny. Case in point: April is National Autism Awareness Month. Asperger's is an Autism Spectrum disorder. To me, that makes April "National Kyle Jarrett's Brain Is Royally Screwed Up" Month. Then again, that just doesn't have the same ring to it.

I was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome in 2004, during a private meeting with a reputable psychiatrist. It may help to point out that I was not actually a part of this meeting, and that once my mom left the room and I had my own private meeting, the same reputable psychiatrist diagnosed me with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I knew there was something fishy right away: there should be a hyphen between "Obsessive" and "Compulsive," right? In any case, it wasn't until the winter of 2008 that I finally— Obsessive─Compulsive! Ahh... Now where was I?

Asperger's Syndrome is surprisingly easy to describe to the unfamiliar. Imagine yourself at a Christmas party, and clinking around the Christmas tree is a model train. While everyone else laughs, jokes, connects, and enjoys each other's company, your attention is on that train. Observe the awesome mechanisms that move it forward. Listen to the friendly sounds it makes: Whoo whoo! Notice how you never grow tired of watching it circle around and around, because it lets you turn off your brain and avoid the insufferable mundanity of conversing about jobs, weather, and alcohol.

The problem with this scenario is that humans are social animals, and Asperger's is a social disorder. National "Kyle Jarrett's Brain Is Royally Screwed Up" Month, Q.E.D. Apart from the feelings of alienation and despair, the disorder works in both directions and consequently, has pretty much made me into an ass. I get offended by light humor, condescending toward those who don't play by (or understand) my convoluted rules, and reclusive around those who try to disrupt my compulsive routines and regimens with a little social time. How my friends have stuck with me, I'll never know.

What I do know is that I'm tired of Asperger's. In fact, I quit. If Whoopi Goldberg can conquer dyslexia, then why can't I change April to National "Kyle's Brain Is All Right" Month? I've spent so much time putting the "ass" in "Asperger's" that the time has come to work on the other half: the "burger." To do so, I will need to focus on the following seven components: Bun (Spiritual), Meat (Physical), Cheese (Social), Lettuce (Personal), Tomatoes (Professional), Onions (Emotional), Ketchup (Romantical)

This shall be my accountability blog, on which I shall face my failures and mark my successes. I make no claim of professional expertise or any pretense of family-friendly content. My language will be expressive and sometimes crass, which, if you are from Utah, will offend. In that case, I say "grow some."

Now let's flip some burgers.