Julia is not in a good mood today.  

I woke up late today, sleeping through the alarm that I never, ever sleep through. The clock suddenly said 8:36, and the social worker, who visits us every other month as part of a Medicaid program, was due at 8:45. I jumped out of bed, pulling on my jeans as I not-so-quietly urged Julia to get up and dressed. Julia hates rushing. No, she doesn’t hate rushing, she doesn’t rush. She complains that I am rushing her which I need to do often to get her on The Ride, or to my choir rehearsal, or to a dozen other things when ‘on-time’ is relevant. If only I could bestow an understanding of time on her—on time, late, soon, rush, hurry, scheduled, delayed, tardy. Oh, so many words! 

This time deficite is absolutely nothing new. We’ve been struggling with time for almost as long as I’ve known Julia. Possibly the toughest part of the challenge is my desire/need/obsession with being on-time. 

This morning the rush was about getting up and dressed before our SW rang the door bell which she did at 8:46. Oy, I had managed dressing and splashing water on my face and was just reaching for the brush to tame my unrully locks when I heard the bell. Julia appeared dressed without combed hair a few minutes later. Really, not at all bad for Julia.

The SW said to Julia that it looked like she gained a few pounds.  The comment, meant as ‘You are looking healthy,’ did not land well because Julia is obsessed with having an ultra-skinny body, like those anime vocaloids. More times than I can count, I have said and showed her that her ideal body type is a cartoon manipulated by a computer and/or an artist. I’ve said that she could draw herself as skinny and ill-proportioned as any other artist or computer can. That all goes in one ear and out the other, or possibly my words never even reach one ear.  She insists that she wants to look like that. She has investigated the possibility of surgery to shrink her waist, or add to her legs, or change her face—all things that have been attempted in Korea where editing young bodies seems to be widespread. I don’t know if it is just widespread on social media and in the hearts of many, many young Koreans. I don’t know if it is a particular obession with young Koreans, but that’s where Julia has found it.

Two hours later, Julia is still ruminating about being fat. Julia is anything but fat. My waking up late and rushing her plus the SW’s comment has started the day badly. Amongst her ruminations, she says bad things about me and calls me names—old, fat and a bitch are her favorites.  

To pile on one more of her life’s indignities, at the library, I supervise Julia’s work. I am required to sit close to her and to remind her whenever she strays from her tasks. I was asked to do this last year when one of the librarians complained that she was not doing her assigned tasks and was also looking into desks and offices that were off limits to her.  Haven’t we all wanted to snoop in the privates places of others?  It’s just that Julia does not necessarisarly have the filters in place to stop herself from persuing that kind of urge. 

I struggle to change the direction of the day and not being effective at all. I can only take so much, my patience wears thin after a while.  I’m not there yet but give me a few hours and I will yell.

So, I try to take a breath, give her as much space as I can while I supervise her. And ask her to plan to do one thing from her “Julia’s sad day list” that we made months ago.

Then, she finds a horror manga that she has seen the anime for, and tells me everything about it.  She loves that I do not like horror and relishes telling me gory details.  I listen and that seems to calm the cortisole rushing through her body.

Maybe the rest of the day won’t go so badly.

Sitting in the teen stacks, I can hear someone interviewing for some kind of employment.  I would guess the person has some disability and at present is doing an pretty awful job of interviewing. The interviwer is with Mass Hire, I just heard, and is tolerant. He is trying to lead the interviewee to some productive responses, but it is hard going.  I imagine Julia as an interviewee. I remember the awful interview at Gateway Arts, the art day center, and wonder if Julia would have done better had the interviewer been as tolerant and helpful as the Mass Hire interviewer is for the young man I am listening to.

God, life is so much easier when you are neurotypical!  

I can hear the young interviewee struggling and trying to say the “right” things. He stumbles over what he wants to do for work, for what fields he wants to work in, for why he needs Mass Hire’s help and for why he wants a job in the fields he has mentioned. 

When the interviewing is over, the young man passes where I sit. I want to reach out and tell him that it is great that he came into the library alone, that he is taking some initiative and that one day, I hope Julia will do as well as he has done today. Of course, I say nothing.  I have been eavesdroping afterall. I look up and smile and he does not catch my attention. Silently, I send him my many good wishes.

Julia has been shelving books and straightening shelves. I think she has found a grove doing it and has calmed down. The cortisole rush has receded. Maybe the rest of the day won’t go so badly.