Friday, March 3, 2023

I am here.

 I'm down the Great Ocean Road at a place called Seacroft. It about ten kilometres Melbourne side of Apollo Bay. 

It took myself, and another of the tribe at this retreat, four hours to get here. Yes, we had to drop off Lucifer at Aunty Blarneys, but he was good about this. Blarney has said that all is well. She went into visit him. He hissed at her. 

It was the getting out of Melbourne that was hard. Once the other side of Werribee things settled down, and it was great to have somebody to talk to on the way. We had on my dodgy play list and sang along to a number of great songs. I think they were impressed with my vocal stylings of Doctor Worm. 

I'm now exhausted, but happy to be here. 

I'm currently sitting in the chapel, on my own, writing this, to gather back a bit of me time - quiet time. 

Everybody here is lovely, but they are quite noisy. 

It's good to just get away for a bit. 

My gin and tonic is in my sippy cup. Best way to have a gin and tonic if you ask me. 


But now is writing time I best get on with it. 

My challenge for this retreat - writing about growing up as neurodiverse. I'm not diagnosed as being neurodiverse, but the odds are on that I'm on some sort of spectrum or other. And because of this, I'm going to give this a stab. 

And yes, I'm writing like an automaton because I'm buggered. 



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