The first time I read that as an aspie, I would have problems with "executive function," I shrugged it off with the thought, "I never wanted to run the company." I'm fortunate in that unlike many of my siblings on the spectrum, I've been able to hold down a job (or get a succession of them), buy a house, and complete a degree (painful but necessary). I am convinced that this only happened because education and career could follow aptitude and ability, and these gifts I did nothing to earn.
Working at them, however, comes under this "executive function" thing. I periodically have trouble with that, like now.
"I think the Franklin planner system set back discovering my comorbidities nearly five years," I told one counselor. "It made my need for lists important, expected, and structured, and let me code things any way I wanted them. It taught me more about taking notes than all my schooling."
Which brings me to my present challenge.
A like-minded person here suggested I take my own writing seriously and explore it. This should feel like an all-consuming passion. Instead it feels like the malaise before a cold: I'm apathetic, low in energy, and dragging my feet on the next steps.
It's true that I'm grieving the end of my current job and association with people I learned to know and like. It's true that I have an assignment that feels boring--do we really have to write all these documents again?--and I hate doing things twice. It's also true that I'm dreading the start of a new job that promises to be strongly political and highly risky (understaffed, late already, and with a group that has a bad history).
It's true that I'm grieving the change of counseling that might mean I don't get more counseling or that I get a new counselor. One of the problems of working with student counselors is that they do move on, regularly.
Lots of change.
But I expect a challenge made in love will ignite more than a weary feeling that I'm starting something I'm about to fail in. I wonder if an engaged executive function would be associated with feelings of ambition, joy, and love. I owe thanks to the person who participated in a thread about sapiosexuality and listed names for love I'd never known (Agape, Philia, Pragma, Philautia, Storge). I don't know what I'm invoking, but I think it's one of them.
My current activity listicle:
Today:
Even if it feels small and unimportant.
Working at them, however, comes under this "executive function" thing. I periodically have trouble with that, like now.
"I think the Franklin planner system set back discovering my comorbidities nearly five years," I told one counselor. "It made my need for lists important, expected, and structured, and let me code things any way I wanted them. It taught me more about taking notes than all my schooling."
Which brings me to my present challenge.
A like-minded person here suggested I take my own writing seriously and explore it. This should feel like an all-consuming passion. Instead it feels like the malaise before a cold: I'm apathetic, low in energy, and dragging my feet on the next steps.
It's true that I'm grieving the end of my current job and association with people I learned to know and like. It's true that I have an assignment that feels boring--do we really have to write all these documents again?--and I hate doing things twice. It's also true that I'm dreading the start of a new job that promises to be strongly political and highly risky (understaffed, late already, and with a group that has a bad history).
It's true that I'm grieving the change of counseling that might mean I don't get more counseling or that I get a new counselor. One of the problems of working with student counselors is that they do move on, regularly.
Lots of change.
But I expect a challenge made in love will ignite more than a weary feeling that I'm starting something I'm about to fail in. I wonder if an engaged executive function would be associated with feelings of ambition, joy, and love. I owe thanks to the person who participated in a thread about sapiosexuality and listed names for love I'd never known (Agape, Philia, Pragma, Philautia, Storge). I don't know what I'm invoking, but I think it's one of them.
My current activity listicle:
- I'm still sitting on the application and the check to join the writer's colony.
- I did just check out a book on social psychology (but checking books out takes no effort).
- I did order the new keyboard so that my hands don't cramp.
- I did sit in the coffeeshop and freewrite notes, although I failed at the peoplewatching task. Cheerful babies are a menace to productivity; I don't observe them, I play with them, Mom permitting.
Today:
- Talk to counselor and find out what's so.
- Reprint the colony application form (I lost the first one).
- Complete the application.
- Put it in the envelope. Mail it. (They don't do online payments.)
- Deal with the church issue: my choir problem has left me numb to church.
Even if it feels small and unimportant.
