So, what the hell happened today, exactly? What happened was that I left my neighborhood in order to hit the soon-gone Byways Cafe again, and within minutes of setting foot on the the bus I was back in that low-level but constant startle-alert state. The one from the other day. The one that apparently yielded that on-hold feeling the next day (yesterday). By the time I’d ordered lunch, it wasn’t so low-level anymore, and my day became a competition between my plan to be at Byways as close to closing time as possible to try to take the photos I want, and an anxiety attack I was trying to survive as I sat there at the counter that was making me uninterested in the food in front of me. As evident from the photo, at one point I’d had to go outside for awhile, and even once back inside I spent half an hour orbiting a potential sobbing fit. It should be noted, as I did on Twitter at the time, that I remain without a psychoconsultant because I’ve been searching for a year and a half for someone covered by my insurance who gets adult autism. My look-ahead suggests tomorrow won’t be any better, given the stress of waiting to see if my annual renewal for SNAP benefits is accepted or if I don’t get to eat next year. On a day that I’d hoped to spend doing nothing but marking the anniversary of adopting a second cat on the assigned birthday of the first. I’m not allowed, you see, to have even a single pleasant day.