What bugs me were the questions in the social interaction, the doctor said I did not 'hit the focus of the question'. There were three different sections to the diagnostic test: My parents and I challenged this outright exemption and were told the only way around it was to get a formal diagnosis.

Before this I was not formally diagnosed with anything but due to the school refusal I have a record with a national child psychology institution. Because of this incident, they have become overly cautious and apparently there is a new directive that anyone on the autism spectrum, no matter how high functioning would be totally exempted from serving. I see it as a way to get back on track after missing out the last 4 years of normal progression.Ī few months before my NS medical check-up, a soldier who was suffering from schizophrenia committed suicide after receiving unfair punishment for a minor offence. Other people see it as 2 years of 'National Slavery'. The joke is, unlike most other people I am exempt from serving even though I actually want to serve. I am 18 this year and this is the year that I have to go for mandatory National Service. I stopped going to school 4 years ago, and I do not leave the house often although I can when I want to. I'm not convinced by what the doctor said that I have it. I just got a diagnosis for aspergers and this impacts my future directly. It's an example of puzzle (rather than crime) mysteries.I posted this in r/offmychest and was told to post this here for more informed responses so here it is. This is a picture book which appeals to a wide age range and its possibilities are endless. The last page gives the time as 'Next Tuesday, seven fifty-eight p.m.' and we see shadows of flying pigs on a barn door. As dawn approaches, the pads and the frogs they bear fly lower and lower until the pads fall to earth and the frogs leap back to their pond, leaving the villagers to wonder at the lily pads left behind. The time is the only text given as the night continues.

The frogs start flying solemnly at first and then with increasing glee as they fly through the town, entering houses, startling dogs and one man enjoying a midnight snack.

The book proper begins at sundown where text says: 'Tuesday evening, around eight.' By now frogs, on their lily pads, are flying through the air. After the title page, we join a pond turtle as he looks up in amazement. Even before the title page we are aware that frogs-one frog at least-is levitating in the marsh. There are very few words in this delightful book.

Tuesday by David Wiesner