People in my personal space feels like someone poking a needle in my back.
I wish people would ask me about my interests; on the other hand, I don’t because I’ll be a like a wound-up toy that everyone in the room wants to turn off.
I keep getting distracted with thoughts I am distracted while trying to read three sentences’ worth.
My routine is not up for debate!
I’m protective as a mother hen over my stuff! Sometimes I take the high road and share, but it doesn’t come easy.
I preferred the company of grown-ups when I was a kid; now I prefer the company of those under ten.
Being alone is as comfortable to me as wearing my favorite pair of sweats.
Knowing when to end a conversation is harder for me to pick up on than starting one.
Gripping the steering wheel on my way to a social gathering.
Sometimes I just need to stare out the window.
Keeping under control when someone interrupts me from pursuing my passion.
Communicating via e-mail is my strength; face-to-face is my weakness.
Losing all sense of direction when someone asks me on the spot for directions.
I call my constant companion “Autie” for short. Autie never sleeps.
I can be quite social with one person I feel comfortable with. At the max, two. But add another person, I go silent. Being with a group of people can be overwhelming.
I rehearse what I should have said in a situation that happened yesterday or decades ago.
Intense anxiety when my routine is interrupted.
I am far better at remembering my failures than my achievements; criticism than praise; awkward instead of my graceful moments.
I’m not fond of talking on the phone but I prefer it over talking to an answering machine. The machine isn’t accepting of my monologs and it doesn’t let me erase what didn’t come out right which is most of what I said.