Little sneak peek of something I may or may not be working on :3

[EDIT: It’s finished now!]

Most people who have written with me know that one of the Doctor's favorite places in the TARDIS is always (no matter the regeneration) the library.

So I thought I'd share a couple of pictures and thoughts I've had about their favorite of rooms.

The Library is the largest room in the TARDIS, and for good reason. The Doctor has collected books from all over the universe, all throughout Time. This is like the Library of Alexandria on steroids, okay? Any scholar would give their left arm for ten minutes in this room.

The shelves are largely made of what seems to be dark hardwood, and the stacks are close together, with narrow aisles and the occasional archway. There are two levels, and an ornate railing around the top decorated in circular Gallifreyan.

There is definitely an organizational system, but you'll never figure it out. The Doctor can always find what they're looking for, though. (But that might just be the TARDIS helping out)

But. Here's my favorite part of the library:

The Reading Nook

There are a number of these throughout the Library, and if you can't find the Doctor, this is the #1 most likely place to find them other than the console room.

The nooks are equipped with plush chairs and sofas, and usually a roaring fireplace at all times. The Doctor rarely sleeps in their bedroom, but occasionally might be caught dozing here. It's cramped and cozy and smells like old books and fresh ink and pine and it's just the best thing.

sent to: Eilonwy ( @eilonwy-of-llyr )

I’ve been thinking about how to describe how my brain functions a lot recently.

Which is something I do now and then because I have never actually found a description that fits. And usually that’s ok, because I can find things that I relate to (hence going “I’m probably autistic”), but sometimes i end up isolating myself or trying to force my brain to fit into one of the vaguely relatable boxes instead of actually describing my brain.

And the thing is? Executive function is really fucking hard for me and none of the explanations of what that’s like line up with my experience and so it’s really hard to hold onto the fact that it’s still hard.

So - here’s the description I’ve come up with in the past few days, which I want to share because maybe someone else has my brain too and is looking for the same kind of thing?

It’s like that marble metaphore that’s been going around a lot - where having adhd is like having to carry a shit ton of marbles with your bare hands while most people get bags to carry their marbles. 

And that felt completely alien to me the first time I thought about it because I definitely have a bag. I have loads a bag. Here’s the thing: I have to make my bags while lots of people just get bags. 

So like, I got a shitton of marbles and I got bag-making skills and I even enjoy making bags, so it tends to work out in my favor. Thing is, bag-making also includes bag upkeep. Maybe, for a lot of people, they just get bags and then, if a bag wears out, they can just go and get another bag. For me, my bags are solid and sturdy, but I have to keep checking in. Wear and tear happens, a particular heavy marble can cause more damage than I expect, and then, here’s the really fun kicker, if I use a bag too long it stops functioning as a bag even if it is completely good repair and I have to move all the marbles into a new bag asap. 

Also, certain marbles will only go in certain bags. It’s absolutely hilarious to me that the same exact task, like “schedule a meeting”, cannot be tackled in the same way if it’s for work or my freelance dance work or personal. I can’t even use the same damn pattern. My entire to-do list system has to be different. My brain is hilarious.

So, I might not have to carry marbles with my bare hands (thank everything), but I do have to maintain mutliple different bags while constantly creating new ones with completely different patterns because the old ones stop working. 

And bag making and maintenance is, of course, it’s own marble which needs its own bag and I have to be super careful about that particular bag because if that one falls apart before I can make a new one, everything else is over. 

And it’s easy to look at the people who don’t have bags and go “well, at least I have bags, I’m doing great” and I look at the people who don’t have to make bags and get angry at myself for not handling as well as them because I have bags too! I should be able to do the things! But the fact is that bag-making a lot. No matter how much I enjoy it, no matter how good I am at it, no matter how effective it can be for marble wrangling, bag making is something that takes up a lot of my attention, time, and energy. And it’s hard. 

And it means there’s a lot of other things that I just can’t handle because I’m busy bag-making. Like, I’ve been pretty angry at myself recently because I’ve had to get groceries delivered. But also? my grocercarey bag was already wearing pretty thin and in need of major maintenance before there was a pandemic. And now I’ve had to make a whole ton of other bags and have less energy than usual (because pandemic) and I just can’t get to the grocery bag. Luckily, groceries is a bag I can get half-made by ordering delivery. 

And that’s ok.

It also means I have a shit ton of badass bagmaking skills. It means that I am equipped and prepared to get through fucking anything, because everything may be shit, coping may be hard, but I can make a goddamn bag (and by bag, I definitely mean a rainbow list with colored markers, or a spreadsheet, or a mind map or a schedule or...fuck, I love these thigns!) and sometimes that’s enough. And sometimes I can share my bags, I like when that happens. 

There was that knock on the door, and... yep, he was actually there when she opened it. “Wyatt,” she greeted with a smile that did feel a little more awkward than intended, mainly because a split second decision had to be made. Did she go in for a hug? Handshake? Kisses? Fuck it, she decided to go for it, at least being able to use her nationality as an excuse. Rising up on her toes, she kissed each of his cheeks once. “I’m glad you could make it to this completely grapefruit-free dinner.” ( @hudsonwyatt )