A serious post for once in my life

Yesterday, I found out that a boy in my Year 7 class was autistic.

I admit I was getting a bit frustrated with him when I was teaching him last week. He doesn't talk to me. At all. Like, not even yes or no. It was frustrating because I didn't know if he understood anything I said. Apparently he does, because he does the work.

Yesterday, I was still getting frustrated, but I tempered my frustration with pity and empathy after I found out that he was autistic.

I've been informed by my sister, who is very reliable (yes, just nod), that autism impedes a person's ability to communicate in a socially acceptable manner. Hence, he doesn't reply to my questions.

It made me reflect on how lucky we are. There's so many diseases out there that you can get at birth. Then, there's so many hurts and ills we can get after birth.

I think that we're very lucky to be whole and pretty much perfect. I mean, the worst thing I have is hayfever, and I can even subdue that now. Most of the people I know aren't even afflicted by this. Well, right now I can't even walk properly, but that'll get better within a month hopefully. As far as I know, autism is pretty much incurable. Which means he'll never be able to communicate with anybody. I've always maintained that no matter how good you are at studies or whatever, if you can't communicate, it's going to be a struggle.

I don't know what I'm trying to say (do I ever). I think it goes something like treasure what you have, because a lot of people don't have it.

So that pretty much exhausted my Serious-O-Meter for the day. On to some more light-hearted, pink-tinged stuff.

Today, my sister bought an electric piano, and my other sister bought a trumpet (yes, they have names, but you wouldn't remember them anyway, and they don't crop up very often on this blog, so don't worry), and I bought a...nothing. Yayer.

So we went down to good ol' Forest Hill Chase, where I espied a male working at Wendy's. Either I never noticed before, or I associate hot pink uniforms with femininity, but I swear I've never seen a guy working there. Ever. In any shopping centre. Or anywhere else. Then I started imagining myself in a hot pink t-shirt. And I shivered. Possibly because of the cold, possibly not.

And my preposterous no-haircut declaration still stands. GFC, man. Gotta cut back on unnecessary spending. Incidentally, jeans are not unnecessary.

Word of the Day: Pink