I love clementines (and all citrus) in the winter so much that I now count down the days to buying my first crate of the season in November. My novel used to have a full page rhapsodizing about them, mostly as a marker of season change, before I reluctantly accepted it was probably more than needed (they were paired with tea — and oatcakes).
This is the perfect complement piece to share with my upcoming post on self-accommodations!
As someone who's neurology makes unconscious actions or habits impossible—every single step taken in the day of a neurodivergent person is conscious (and exhausting), unfortunately—it's always interesting to read how someone else's brain experiences life, even in the simplest of things.
I love clementines (and all citrus) in the winter so much that I now count down the days to buying my first crate of the season in November. My novel used to have a full page rhapsodizing about them, mostly as a marker of season change, before I reluctantly accepted it was probably more than needed (they were paired with tea — and oatcakes).
This is the perfect complement piece to share with my upcoming post on self-accommodations!
As someone who's neurology makes unconscious actions or habits impossible—every single step taken in the day of a neurodivergent person is conscious (and exhausting), unfortunately—it's always interesting to read how someone else's brain experiences life, even in the simplest of things.
I'll be sharing this next week! Thanks, Danielle!