So that is to say, when I was diagnosed, I did have a boyfriend. But all the boxes were ticked for it’s not a forever thing.
I’m a Nona, he wouldn’t let me feed him.
He would not sleep over (No, there was no sex) I’m fine with as he was not ‘fit’.
*Fit – The term I picked up from living with two British Geezers for a month, to describe someone as ‘Sexy’. They flicked through a magazine to point out all the pictures; “Fit! Fit! Fit! Not Fit!” Hilarious.
And we’re back.
And he was working, but had some crazy idea that he was the ‘Hero’ in every scenario. He had moved back home at 37. You get me, right?
Oh, good lord. Guys just have that deer in the headlight look, don’t they?
What are we doing? Is this working?
Fine! I’ll rip the band-aid off.
“Let’s be friends!”
We remained friends for some years, which was more what we had been anyway. But…..
Here is a little trial, if you like to get you in the instant mindset of having difficulties and challenges similar to that of having a disability.
Occasionally, I get a sore or ‘something’ that requires a bandaid on my right thumb!
That is my texting finger (Or thumb so to speak) I text a lot, it’s good way to message people who don’t have normal hours. I don’t have normal hours, but occasionally it means people can get back to me when they have time.
I even know a few people who keep similar hours as mine. So, if you text, put a bandaid on your text finger or thumb and every time you go to text, see how long it takes you to change your behaviour and routine to use a different finger or method.