Before the day even got started

So this morning at the crack of chicken, my friend Jeanne and I traveled two hours south to pick up a Shih Tzu from a rescue. Jeanne adopted the lil cutie today. A little lover.

But here's how the day starts for an ADHDer:

1. Night before: Use clever scheduling technique of "working backward" to determine how long it will take to get self ready and drag sorry carcass out of house. Decide ideal time is 60 minutes.
2. Night before: Set alarm for two hours ahead of departure time, to give at least one hour for caffeine to get in bloodstream.
3. Day of: Sleep through half-hour of alarm going off.
4. Leave 25 minutes later than scheduled, which is 10 minutes after am supposed to be across town at Jeanne's house.
5. Call Jeanne en route to tell her am en route.
6. Watch for special landmark at which to take a left-turn into Jeanne's subdivision.
7. Vaguely register that special landmark has passed six blocks ago.
8. Turn left abruptly, pull over and call Jeanne to tell her I overshot her turnoff.
9. Meanwhile, car kills and will not start. Panic ensues and Mea's brain leaves the building, a la Elvis.
10. Realize forgot to charge phone and it's about to die. Panic further about how to leave car at side of road and how to call AAA sans phone. Tell Jeanne to leave sans me, as she needs to be two hours away in less than two hours.
11. Manage to start car miraculously, but it's too late -- I have forgotten how to drive and where I am. Have no idea how to get to Jeanne's even though I've known her for five years. Stay on dying phone with Jeanne as she directs me.
12. Find Jeanne's house, HURRAH!
13. Pull over to park on street. 
14. Realize 3/4 thermal coffee pot has tipped over on car floor, soaking backpack and library book.
15. Leave key in ignition, windows open and car unlocked.
16. Drag self, dripping backpack, overstuffed purse, butt-pillow, coat from my grunge-mobile into her immaculate shrine on wheels. Leave mostly empty coffee pot in car, out of concern for Jeanne's car. 
17. Worry that coffee-soaked backpack is staining her mint-condition leather upholstery. 
18. Turn off near-dead phone to save battery; proceed to drop between Jeanne's front seat and her center console. Search, grope, feel around for phone, to no avail; realize phone is off so calling it from Jeanne's phone would not help in locating it.
19. Try to be attentive and listen to Jeanne's detailed explanation of the dog's history; fail with flying colors.
20. Repeatedly ask her the same four questions about dog's history because brain is so occupied beating self up over Numbers 3-14 that nothing is getting through.
21. Realize must take ADHD med today, as am completely non-functional and a danger to self and others.
22. Crave coffee. Wonder if sucking on backpack will caffeinate brain.
23. Slam two Diet Mountain Dews to wake brain up. 
24. Cross legs to point of near bladder explosion for next two hours because, due to own lateness and disorganization, am too sheepish and embarrassed to ask Jeanne to make potty stop.
25. Drink 2/3 bottle of water anyway because ADHD med causes massive drymouth.
26. We arrive ahead of the other party we are meeting. Limp out of car at parking lot of designated dog-meeting spot, hobble cross-legged inside building to use bathroom. Practically hallucinate with urinary relief. Make up new word for hallucinating with urinary relief: Urinucinate.
27. Walk out of building without purse. 

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