Colin’s thoughts on commuting bring back dismal memories of my last job, a Vocational Rehabilitation placement, which required getting up early enough to get cleaned, get dressed, eat breakfast, and catch a 7:00am light rail for an hourish commute. The job itself only was four hours a day, but the physical and psychic burden of that commute upon my still-only-recently-diagosed autistic self was part of what led to the crash-and-burn which ended my employment after just six months.

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Hello. My name is Bix. @bix