Well, it's off to the nut hatch today.

Not actually the nut hatch --the diagnostic psychotherapist's office. He specializes in autism spectrum disorders. He'll give me a once-over and maybe put the moves on me. (He sounds gay on the phone.)

After I pay him some money for several hours' testing, he will award me with my very own disability. I may then use that diagnosis to get out of any number of jams. "Excuse me! Asperger sufferer coming through! I've got a disability!" Maybe I'll even get a handicap placard for my car.

And then I can go to group therapy where we all sit around the nut hatch and learn skills like how to look at people without staring at them, how to modulate the tone of one's robot voice, and how generally not to be a complete creep.

I shall keep you apprised.