Spaghetti Tacos

Okay, this is going to sound petty as fuck, but I’m really disappointed.  We were going to have spaghetti tonight so I was going to have spaghetti tacos since I hate regular spaghetti and my brother said he’d pick up some spaghetti noodles for me from the store.  I wasn’t told he was leaving and he left before I could give him money and a list of things I wanted.  Currently, I don’t have anything for breakfast and I’m lacking a few essentials for the rest of my meals.

Now, something you need to know, is that I eat the same things for meals.  I’m out of hummus and bagels so I was going to have quesadillas.  Those are the two things I eat for breakfast on the regular.  I was going to ask him to pick me up some tortillas for me for breakfast and some vegetables and crushed red pepper for my ramen.  So I don’t have that stuff.

Which would be forgivable, except he got fettuccine noodles and not spaghetti noodles.  It’s spaghetti tacos, not fettuccine tacos.  The noodles taste different.  They’re different.  I won’t eat square cut pizza for similar reasons.  It has to be triangle cut.  So I couldn’t have spaghetti tacos.  And I had nothing else ready to eat except ice cream so I ended up having that.

Honestly, he should have called.  And yeah, I’m being autistic about this.  I appreciate him even getting me noodles.  I can be thankful for something and still say “hey, this is wrong”.

I’m really upset.  I’d been looking forward to spaghetti tacos for a few days now and then I couldn’t have any while everyone else got to enjoy spaghetti noodle based food and I had to eat ice cream since I had nothing else I could readily eat.

In other news, my last individual with Charon is tomorrow.  I’m sad that I’m not going to be seeing her anymore.  I’ll miss her.  She’s a good therapist.  I wish everyone had a Charon in their lives.

On the other hand, I am looking forward to starting this new adventure in my life.  My first quest is going to have to be finding a new therapist that I can work with on my trauma shit.  I still see Cybelle, but I don’t see her all that often and she’s my gender therapist.  She’s not trained in trauma.

I’m going to be getting my own place by year’s end.  Honestly, I kinda feel like I should see about getting into a short-term group home that I can have my cat at.  There’s too much going on here and my brother scares me.  I don’t feel safe.  I am safe, I just don’t feel it.  I keep getting flashback type stuff.  I dissociate most of the time because it’s just easier to deal with.

And yeah, the spaghetti tacos were just the tipping point.

-The Sarcastic Autist

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