Monday, September 21, 2015

Strange fruit

So I went to my garden this morning to pick beans, and what did I find? Shoes.

Yes, the pair of fairly nice flats I wore last week to see the ADHD therapist. Growing right there between the green beans and Swiss chard. So much for that. I vaguely recall walking up the driveway, spotting some beans and getting distracted by them, of course, and harvesting a huge happy heap then and there.

I must have stepped out of my shoes -- no, not must have, obviously DID step out of my shoes. And there they stayed.

Over the weekend, I traveled out of town to work for my parents. Managed to get back home last night with everything I left with -- at least, I think everything's intact.

It was the item I didn't bring down there with me that bit me in the butt: My paycheck.

My dad had handed me and another coworker our paychecks and then asked me to follow him in his car to their house. He's ADD, too. He was in a hurry, so I left pronto without grabbing my purse.

Back at the store five hours later, I realized my handbag did not contain a check. I searched all over the store, trash, my car, bags and purse, dumping the latter out three times. I vaguely remember folding it up discreetly when my dad gave it to me -- but fog takes over after that.

Dad later called me last night to say he'd found the check in his car. Pfffewwwww.

But jeez.

So the reason he asked me to drive his car home in the first place -- not that it's to blame in any way. The evening prior, my parents (who drove separate cars) left work early to go to church and dinner directly from work (we all worked together Saturday). Since they took off in my mom's car, he completely forgot that he left his own car (unlocked and windows wide open) at the store overnight until he arrived at work Sunday morning in my mother's car and saw what appeared to be a car just like his.

He even had to check the license plate to convince himself it WAS his, as he hadn't noticed his car missing when he pulled out of the garage in my mother's car.

The tree doesn't grow far from the apple.




Monday, September 14, 2015


Redeploying the troops

I've just arrived home from my third meeting with the therapist I've enlisted to help me battle these insurgents in my brain called ADHD. Trying to corral all of the mental missiles, projectiles and drones has left me battle weary. So I'm refreshing/recharging with my chosen ammo, coffee with cocoa-flavored cream, which is sure to frighten off these cranial terrorists just by the sound of it.

In the last eight days, I've dropped my MP3 player (a/k/a my pacifier and grip on life) into the toilet and ruined it, dropped my cell phone in the dewy grass at 9 p.m. in the dark on a state trail and didn't realize it till I got home (fortunately, subsequently retraced route and found it), and completely lost my pedometer (a/k/a my keeper and evaluator). I ordered replacements for No. 1 and No. 3. This neurological condition is draining my war coffers.

To top it off, I LOST or misplaced the 4-page questionnaire the ADHD coach/therapist gave me to fill out. And it was partially filled out. Which means that somewhere out there floats a document with my vitals on it along with a list of my private medications (including Adderall, so welcome meth dealers, here is my stash right at this address) and a checklist of my physical maladies. Thank goodness I did not check the box that said "sexual dysfunction" and also that there was no box marked "constipation," as practically all of these medical forms of every kind seem to have. Why everyone wants to know if you're constipated remains a mystery.

At least something went right today.