🌧️ The Rinse Is Enough Some mornings, I just rinse off with hot water. No soap. No washcloth. No full-body scrubdown. Just water and breath and enough stillness to remind myself: I’m here. I did something. I’m still trying. Growing up, my mom would tell me, “If you’re in there with the water on, you might as well use soap and a washcloth.” But what she didn’t understand — what so many people still don’t understand — is that for someone like me, autistic and often overwhelmed, that “might as well” comes with a cost. Soap isn’t just soap. It’s texture, scent, pressure, decisions. It’s executive function and sensory load. It’s one more step when I already feel like I’m drowning in steps. There are days when just turning on the water is a triumph. Rinsing off is not “giving up.” It’s choosing a path I can actually walk. It’s something . And something is always better than nothing. The rinse helps regulate my body. The hot water...

Okay, hear me out—maybe it’s just me, but I think cow meat has it out for me at this point. I said hold on… 😅 First, it was that flaming cow meat that tried to take me out (you remember the hot jerky saga, right?). And now, I go to Burger King and order a number one—regular Whopper meal. I even upsized it to a large with sweet tea, feelin’ fancy. I get home and... there are no fries in the bag. None. Nada. Just sadness. I haven’t even checked the sandwich yet to see if they got it right. I ordered it with no mayo, no tomato, and no pickles—because I have autistic sensory issues with all three. Let me be clear for the folks in the back: 🧠 It’s not about being picky. It’s about how my brain and body react to certain textures, smells, and tastes. Mayo feels like slime on my tongue. Tomato makes everything soggy. Pickles? Instant sour overdrive. If any of those are on my burger, I literally can’t eat it. And don’t say, “Just pick it off.” First of all: 👉 You can’t pick off mayo, you abs...