The anonymous and ever-scandalous newsletter columnist known as Lady Whistledown was on the telephone, her order of India Ink that she had ordered from Winsor & Newton hadn’t arrived and her scandal sheet was due to begin circulating London at 4pm on the dot. Back in 1813 this was as exciting as life got for the Bridgerton family and their known associates.

I’m sure that Winsor and Newton were not particularly concerned about a wayward order of India Ink, but then again given the popularity of Lady Whistledown’s scandal sheet and the fact that it could potentially harm their business, they probably dispatched a horseman forth with and the so that Lady Whistledown could dip her dry quill into the aforementioned ink and take great satisfaction as the quill and the ink came into contact with the white virginal paper which was hastily rushed to the printers and distributed by An un supervised  12 year old boy named Frederick (possibly).

For me my week wasn’t as exciting as it was for Lady Whistledown a fictional character in the Netflix period drama Bridgerton. But nevertheless, here is what happened to me in 7 days.


A development project that I had been working on came to an end and I then had to write a report on the various outcomes and challenges that I had faced. I was exhausted by the end and several times I had to hit that backspace button. I’m certain that I got repetitive backspace injury. Anyway along with a host of other documents that I had to attach to an email (don’t worry I won’t bore you with what they were) I sent in my email, along with those various attachments and an invoice and let out one long relived breath!



After our mandatory mask wearing is lifted, I get back into the gym and back with my exercise physiologist. Breath escapes my broken body. I collapse amid dark, icy spears of pain. The fight’s done. It’s over Jake (my ex phys): You’ve done 9 seconds Nick. It’s going to be a long half an hour! I plough on and instantly regret it.



For some bizarre reason today, I had an enormous influx of emails! I’m thinking that those people had been sitting on when to send them and then at an arranged time they’d all hit the send button at once and hey presto! There they were appearing in my inbox, one after the other, after the other. I envy Lady Whistledown back in 1813 as she didn’t have an email account and had to rely on someone penning a letter and waiting for it to be hand delivered first from a horse and cart driver, to a servant of the house, then it would be hand placed onto a silver tray and the recipient (in this case Lady W would reach out her hand which was enveloped in a pristine white glove and opening the letter would begin to digest it’s contents, what actions would she take would depend on the contents of the letter).



The life of a writer never ends and so I find myself at staring at a blank page and at the mercy of a Final Draft document willing it to suddenly become filled with snappy, witty, crisp dialogue. This doesn’t occur because I do not have magical powers and so the long day ahead lingers onto the night. Writing is like finding that all you have in the pantry is a tin of sandwich tuna and you then attempt (and fail) to make the tuna appear exciting and delicious when in fact you know the truth but your hungry and this is your only sandwich option.



I’m on the train hurtling towards Perth Underground station to begin my journey into work. I finally feel comfortable and not cowering in fear of having to wear a mask on the train, in the office, back on the train for a total of 6 hours. The mask anxiety is very real and very triggering for me. So, I’m extremely relived to not have to wear one anymore (unless another COVID lockdown is suddenly called before our up coming local elections. Not that I am suggesting it will, but you never know in the unpredictable world of COVID 19).

Perth Train Map


My day of rest. I like to take the whole day to allow myself to process my working day on Friday and to relax and wind down. I spend the day watching TV, going for a swim, taking a nap, listening to a podcast or two and making sure that I have my sensory box nearby so that if I do become overwhelmed I know that it’s contents will be enough (fingers crossed) to prevent to beginning of a meltdown.



It’s lunch time here in WA and I am about to go and make myself some lunch (no tuna today!) and sit in my back garden and breath in the fresh air and bask in the sunshine.

A Healthy Nutritious Lunch


As always, I can be found on Twitter:@AutisticNickAU

Thank you for reading and I will see you next time for more thoughts from across the spectrum.

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