Because of some insane spark of inspiration that washed over me, I eagerly decided tonight to blog about Christmas cards. I was pretty sure that I once wrote a post about cards at some point. And whoa, I did indeed write one -- one day short of 2 years ago and available here for your reading pleasure. The timing coincidence on that is cute and all. But you could have knocked me over with a candy cane when I read my follow up post. Seriously, my eyes bugged out like one of those kids on a creepy oil painting when I read this:
Several weeks ago, I started addressing envelopes, including the one for M., a friend of mine. However, I learned recently that our friendship's not worth the 41 cents it'd take to mail the card.
OK, two things:
First, someone really needed to spike the eggnog for my 2007 self with a big ol' shot of get over yourself. Basically, I expected M. to read my mind about something that I also blew out of proportion, and he didn't. I'd go further with the story, but then you'd be thinking, "why am I reading this middle school girl's blog?"
Second, and even more hilarious, M. recently moved and emailed me his new address today. You know, so that the card I'll be sending reaches him. And I'll be getting one from him, of course. After we went back and forth on email for quite a while, we finally chatted on the phone for a bit and had a nice conversation.
My point with the M. story is that sometimes (ok, often), the ADD brain gets all caught up in chasing after the shiny thing in front of it. And, if you're me, that's great if the shiny thing is a sweet patent leather handbag like I got last year for 70 percent off. But if the shiny thing is some petty drama that you can't release from your craw, then for us to spend our mental energy on it is a futile mission that has one victim: ourselves. I maybe see M. once a year, and I do recall that it took me several months to "get over it". And I'm glad that I did, as he's an even bigger goofball than I am, and we always have a hilarious time together.
I'm glad that I could catch you up with the happy continuation of M. and my friendship. But now, on to the main point that I wanted make here about Christmas cards.
As per usual this year, I fired up the ol' spreadsheet shortly after Thanksgiving and started to type up the list of folks to whom I'd be sending cards. I was going to be placing an order for cards, so I wanted to make sure that I ordered the right amount. I did weed out a few names (sans the middle school drama), but I noticed that I added many more this year.
The completed list included 50 names, which is more than I ever had on my Christmas card list. And weirdly enough, I didn't feel my typical dread of writing, addressing, sealing, stamping, and mailing. Instead, I looked at the names and realized that I was happy to have these folks in my life. I even thought that about my cousin who openly bemoans my dubious urban singleton lifestyle to anyone within earshot, never mind the fact that I like to travel outside my area code. (Having a million entertainment stories, dates with cute guys, and seeing the world? Priceless!)
I think it very easy to get caught up in the hullabaloo of the holidays. TV ads tout "the perfect Christmas" and equate love with some mass-produced geegaw from the mall jewelry store. Just like my silly situation with my friend M., it's easy for ADDers to fixate on the interesting thing right in front of us and forget the stuff that grounds us. And that's usually the people in our lives.
So when you tick off another name on your card list, think about why you're sending this person a card. Maybe they remember you from back in the day with your big ol' 80s hairdo (and I'm not just talking about the ladies here). Or maybe they're a new pal who, wow, totally understands you. Or perhaps they're like my cousin, and they're an imperfect judgemental being...you know, just like we all are. Or maybe they're like M., and you finally realize that all the stamps sold by the U.S. Postal Service aren't worth as much as your friendship does.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
A taxing defense?
Today's "ADD in the News" story introduces us to Robin Magee, a professor at a law school in Minnesota. The prof's in a legal pickle of her own after being charged today with 11 felonies that pertain to her failure to pay state income taxes or file tax returns. Oops.
In the matter of how did this happen, counsellor, what say you?
"Magee stated that she has been unable to organize her records because she has extreme ADD and is unable to complete her tax returns."
That's what she said! You can read it for yourself in the criminal complaint, which is linked here.
(And I'm curious: does "extreme ADD" involve skateboards and Mountain Dew? If so, why did I end up with the boring regular ADD? Not fair! I digress...)
Folks, lately I've been working hard at having compassion for others and being non-judgemental. But honestly, Gandhi would have a hard time understanding Ms. Magee. For starters, she's a law professor who once practiced tax law. Although I'm not a lawyer, I am an American, and you can't escape knowing that April 15 rolls around every year. (The commercials for Turbo Tax and H&R Block won't let you, anyway.) She also earned her law degree from the University of Michigan (go blue!), which is one of this nation's top ten law schools. She's a smart lady, to be sure.
But yeah, I realize that intellect and ADD are two very different things. I have both of these things, so I should know. And therein lies the problem.
I think it's difficult for non-ADDers to understand that a clinical disorder can cause you to forget things because your mind is elsewhere or be confounded by having to file papers in your desk. On a daily basis, I try to explain these sorts of things to non-ADD people, and it's just not something to which they easily relate. So, when ADDers use the disorder as a defense for actions of this magnitude, I feel that it hurts all of us ADDers. It perpetuates the inaccurate stereotype that ADDers are capricious nitwits who don't have their act together.
Ms. Magee, if you lost your W-2s and want to blame your ADD for it, go right ahead. But attributing years of tax evasion and fabricating information on tax returns to ADD? Eh, overruled. Can she attribute her ADD to having difficulty with preparing tax returns? Yeah, sure. But if you want to attribute 11(!) criminal charges solely to ADD, then you may as well blame ADD for credit default swaps and trans-fats while you're at it.
Admittedly, I tried to be mature and give Ms. Magee the benefit of the doubt. And apparently, so did the the tax department:
"MDOR investigators requested Magee to provide documentation that she was medically unable to file tax returns due to the stated condition, but she has failed to provide any such documentation."
Hmmm. But wait; there's more:
"Magee also claimed that she did not believe that her repeated delinquent filing of income tax returns was criminal because she was due refunds because she overpays taxes." However, MDOR records show that for most years, tax was due after adding back income which Magee had omitted and eliminating expenses she could not substantiate."
I don't have a copy of the DSM-IV handy, but the last time I checked, cheating on your taxes isn't a symptom of ADD. If so, the prisons would be jammed with me and you and the rest of the ADD populace.
I do wish Ms. Magee well and hope that she takes responsibility for her actions instead of using her ADD as a foil for them. And speaking of Gandhi, as I did earlier, I'm going to take to heart his sage quote, "You must be the change you wish to see in the world." There is a big stack of tax-related papers on my desk, and I shall file them now.
In the matter of how did this happen, counsellor, what say you?
"Magee stated that she has been unable to organize her records because she has extreme ADD and is unable to complete her tax returns."
That's what she said! You can read it for yourself in the criminal complaint, which is linked here.
(And I'm curious: does "extreme ADD" involve skateboards and Mountain Dew? If so, why did I end up with the boring regular ADD? Not fair! I digress...)
Folks, lately I've been working hard at having compassion for others and being non-judgemental. But honestly, Gandhi would have a hard time understanding Ms. Magee. For starters, she's a law professor who once practiced tax law. Although I'm not a lawyer, I am an American, and you can't escape knowing that April 15 rolls around every year. (The commercials for Turbo Tax and H&R Block won't let you, anyway.) She also earned her law degree from the University of Michigan (go blue!), which is one of this nation's top ten law schools. She's a smart lady, to be sure.
But yeah, I realize that intellect and ADD are two very different things. I have both of these things, so I should know. And therein lies the problem.
I think it's difficult for non-ADDers to understand that a clinical disorder can cause you to forget things because your mind is elsewhere or be confounded by having to file papers in your desk. On a daily basis, I try to explain these sorts of things to non-ADD people, and it's just not something to which they easily relate. So, when ADDers use the disorder as a defense for actions of this magnitude, I feel that it hurts all of us ADDers. It perpetuates the inaccurate stereotype that ADDers are capricious nitwits who don't have their act together.
Ms. Magee, if you lost your W-2s and want to blame your ADD for it, go right ahead. But attributing years of tax evasion and fabricating information on tax returns to ADD? Eh, overruled. Can she attribute her ADD to having difficulty with preparing tax returns? Yeah, sure. But if you want to attribute 11(!) criminal charges solely to ADD, then you may as well blame ADD for credit default swaps and trans-fats while you're at it.
Admittedly, I tried to be mature and give Ms. Magee the benefit of the doubt. And apparently, so did the the tax department:
"MDOR investigators requested Magee to provide documentation that she was medically unable to file tax returns due to the stated condition, but she has failed to provide any such documentation."
Hmmm. But wait; there's more:
"Magee also claimed that she did not believe that her repeated delinquent filing of income tax returns was criminal because she was due refunds because she overpays taxes." However, MDOR records show that for most years, tax was due after adding back income which Magee had omitted and eliminating expenses she could not substantiate."
I don't have a copy of the DSM-IV handy, but the last time I checked, cheating on your taxes isn't a symptom of ADD. If so, the prisons would be jammed with me and you and the rest of the ADD populace.
I do wish Ms. Magee well and hope that she takes responsibility for her actions instead of using her ADD as a foil for them. And speaking of Gandhi, as I did earlier, I'm going to take to heart his sage quote, "You must be the change you wish to see in the world." There is a big stack of tax-related papers on my desk, and I shall file them now.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
When (and if) routines get too routine.
I work with a guy named R. who is all about having structure in his life. Every day, he arrives at work at the same time, goes to the gym at the same time, eats the same lunch at his desk that he totes to work each day, and leaves at the same time. He also rinses out his coffee pot at the end of the day at exactly 1/2 hour before he departs. I know this because I see him walk past my workspace to the office kitchen every day at the same time.
R. is not obsessive-compulsive. Rather, he just likes having structure in his life. A lot. If you were to ask R. about the recent vacation that he and his girlfriend took, he would certainly tell you how much they enjoyed the trip. But he would also tell you that he is happy to be back to his daily routine.
When I think about R.'s structured life, I'm of two minds. On the one hand, I think that having a routine like that is boring. His schedule doesn't permit going for a walk on a lovely day. He also declines lunch invitiations from his friends from time to time so that he can maintain his routine. I can't imagine not being able to treat my lunch hour as my own play-by-ear time of the day where I get to do whatever I feel like doing, instead of treating it as a time to fulfill a self-imposed requirement.
On the other hand, I wouldn't mind to have an ounce of the structure that he has. (Just an ounce, though.) I like the idea of having more structure that allows things to happen rather automatically. Presently, I have routines of sorts for my mornings, both at home and at work. In both cases, these series of actions seemed to come to be over time out of convenience and effiency rather than any sort of conscious planning. For example, at work I fill my water glass while my computer boots up, followed by a review of my calendar for the day's appointments and checking in with a couple of coworkers regarding our work assignments.
Other than the basic routines that I have made attempts to give myself more structure. I've followed the Flylady system of housecleaning from time to time. And I've also written down an end-of-the-evening routine for me to follow before I go to bed that includes picking out my outfit for the following day. But unfortunately, I've had a difficult time sticking to these routines. I'll typically try them for a few days, but then miss a day or three and give up. Admittedly, I blame the routine for being too stringent rather than correctly faulting my perfectionism for scrapping the routine altogether.
In addition, I also worry about routines getting in the way of being my freewheeling, spontaneous self. As an unmarried lady without kids, I'm often reminded by my coupled friends with offspring that it must be nice to have free time to do whatever I wish. As they often say, I could jet off to Paris whenever I desired! But realistically, even though it's great to have options, there's also such a thing as having too many options. By not having a routine to plan my week, I often end up failing to make decisions about ways that I want to spend my time, which then result in not making plans. And when that happens, I get cranky. That's not fun!
I'm going to experiment with establishing some more structure for myself this week. I have a few ideas of things I want to implement: 1) picking out my work outfits before I go to bed at night, because I spend too much time ironing and/or searching for a shoe that managed to separate from its mate; 2) answering emails (work and personal) by the end of the day that I receive them, because I say "I'll get to that," but then fail to do so; 3) use my calendar to plan my personal schedule. Regarding this last item, I'm finally back to using one again. But that's another story for another day... :-)
R. is not obsessive-compulsive. Rather, he just likes having structure in his life. A lot. If you were to ask R. about the recent vacation that he and his girlfriend took, he would certainly tell you how much they enjoyed the trip. But he would also tell you that he is happy to be back to his daily routine.
When I think about R.'s structured life, I'm of two minds. On the one hand, I think that having a routine like that is boring. His schedule doesn't permit going for a walk on a lovely day. He also declines lunch invitiations from his friends from time to time so that he can maintain his routine. I can't imagine not being able to treat my lunch hour as my own play-by-ear time of the day where I get to do whatever I feel like doing, instead of treating it as a time to fulfill a self-imposed requirement.
On the other hand, I wouldn't mind to have an ounce of the structure that he has. (Just an ounce, though.) I like the idea of having more structure that allows things to happen rather automatically. Presently, I have routines of sorts for my mornings, both at home and at work. In both cases, these series of actions seemed to come to be over time out of convenience and effiency rather than any sort of conscious planning. For example, at work I fill my water glass while my computer boots up, followed by a review of my calendar for the day's appointments and checking in with a couple of coworkers regarding our work assignments.
Other than the basic routines that I have made attempts to give myself more structure. I've followed the Flylady system of housecleaning from time to time. And I've also written down an end-of-the-evening routine for me to follow before I go to bed that includes picking out my outfit for the following day. But unfortunately, I've had a difficult time sticking to these routines. I'll typically try them for a few days, but then miss a day or three and give up. Admittedly, I blame the routine for being too stringent rather than correctly faulting my perfectionism for scrapping the routine altogether.
In addition, I also worry about routines getting in the way of being my freewheeling, spontaneous self. As an unmarried lady without kids, I'm often reminded by my coupled friends with offspring that it must be nice to have free time to do whatever I wish. As they often say, I could jet off to Paris whenever I desired! But realistically, even though it's great to have options, there's also such a thing as having too many options. By not having a routine to plan my week, I often end up failing to make decisions about ways that I want to spend my time, which then result in not making plans. And when that happens, I get cranky. That's not fun!
I'm going to experiment with establishing some more structure for myself this week. I have a few ideas of things I want to implement: 1) picking out my work outfits before I go to bed at night, because I spend too much time ironing and/or searching for a shoe that managed to separate from its mate; 2) answering emails (work and personal) by the end of the day that I receive them, because I say "I'll get to that," but then fail to do so; 3) use my calendar to plan my personal schedule. Regarding this last item, I'm finally back to using one again. But that's another story for another day... :-)
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Look who's blogging again!
Hey folks! I'm back. Over the past several months, I've made several attempts to write some epic blog post to herald my return. But duh, I have ADD, which means that these attempts remained half-finished in my drafts folder. I'm sure that many of you can relate!
It's been almost 9 months since I last typed to you, and I've many of stories to share. Heck, there's no way that amount of time can go by without any of what I call "Great Moments in ADD-Ness". Despite the radio silence of posts here, I've been itching to share stories of all sorts, yet felt personally pressured to come up with some big clever and witty verbiage to say I was back. But you know what? I'm not going to do that. Let's move on from this hiatus!
It's been almost 9 months since I last typed to you, and I've many of stories to share. Heck, there's no way that amount of time can go by without any of what I call "Great Moments in ADD-Ness". Despite the radio silence of posts here, I've been itching to share stories of all sorts, yet felt personally pressured to come up with some big clever and witty verbiage to say I was back. But you know what? I'm not going to do that. Let's move on from this hiatus!
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Beer and pudding pops
As I shopped for groceries one evening last week, I excitedly discovered pudding pops in freezer case. For the uninitiated, I'm referring to frozen pudding on a stick for which Bill Cosby once served as a spokesmodel. As a kid, I enjoyed pudding pops perhaps more than any type of frozen treat. It, of course, thrilled me beyond belief to see that they have made a comeback in the 21st century.
But just before I reached into the freezer case to snag a box of pudding pops, I noticed the cost: $4.99 for a box of 12. My hand then retreated from the handle of the freezer case.
I thought to myself that it was crazy to pay that much for pudding pops. I think I figured that they should cost $3, so $4.99 was exorbitant to me. Never mind that I hadn't had a pudding pop since the Reagan adminstration.
Thinking back to earlier in the evening, I realized the irony of my situation. I'd been out with a friend and drank one beer, which cost $4 and a $1 tip. Thus, I paid $5 for an after work beer, which I occasionally have...and never think twice about its cost.
So why did I get all indecisive about buying the pudding pops? Probably because the thing that I wanted very much was staring me in the face and actually having it was too overwhelming to comprehend.
Perhaps you're thinking that I'm a lady of low expectations to have such an emotional reaction to pudding pops, but I'm pretty certain that you do the same thing. There's likely something that you want, but it takes a bit more investment to procure or achieve than you had originally anticipated. It could be a purchase, but it also could be catching up with an old and awesome friend with whom you haven't been in touch with in a few years. Yesterday, in the U.S., it could have been voting for president. Or maybe it's updating your resume. Or learning how to knit. Or, if you've been me over the last couple of months, it could be blogging.
By having ADD, we often excuse ourself for not achieving what we want. I'm not talking about the "shoulds", as my ADD coach would say; that is, things we feel obligated to do. I am referring to the things in life that deep down, you really want. If you're like me and were diagnosed with ADD as an adult, you probably have an impressive track record of things that you started and never finished, as well as the squashed confidence that's a residual effect.
As a result, you take the easy way out or accept a lesser substitute for what you really want. I'll use the previous examples from two paragraphs ago as examples. So, instead of contacting your old friend, you write "hope to catch up soon!" on a holiday card and spend your time listening to the pal (of sorts) who calls when s/he needs an audience for her/his latest drama. Or maybe you decided to drive straight home from work yesterday because you live in one of the bluest states and you were planning to vote for Obama. And why try to get another job when the economy sucks? Or try to knit a sweater when there are plenty available at TJ Maxx? Or, if you're me, assert that you have no time to blog yet plenty to watch "What Not to Wear?"
In my earlier example with the pudding pops, I illogically felt like it didn't make sense to buy a box because the price differed from what I expected it to be. And I almost let this ridiculous notion overrule some other compelling points:
Were they the delicious pudding pops that I remembered from my youth? Totally.
Was I as excited to see them as I am to see the new James Bond movie? Heck yeah.
Did I have any issue with parting with $5 for my postwork beer? Of course not.
How we each spend our money, time, affection, attention, calories, and so forth is our owndecision. Are you using these resources on the people and things that you know will enhance your life and delight you? Or are you squandering them on people/things that fill your time or squander these resources?
With ADD, it's easy to accept second best. We're all used to everything having a higher degree of difficulty than what non-ADDers have to handle. But at the same time, don't use your ADD to justify not setting out to achieve anything that you want in life, small or large. If you do, that makes as much sense as a lady who shivers in the frozen foods aisle for way too many minutes as she grapples with the idea of shelling out an extra $2 for something that will keep her happy for a week.
But just before I reached into the freezer case to snag a box of pudding pops, I noticed the cost: $4.99 for a box of 12. My hand then retreated from the handle of the freezer case.
I thought to myself that it was crazy to pay that much for pudding pops. I think I figured that they should cost $3, so $4.99 was exorbitant to me. Never mind that I hadn't had a pudding pop since the Reagan adminstration.
Thinking back to earlier in the evening, I realized the irony of my situation. I'd been out with a friend and drank one beer, which cost $4 and a $1 tip. Thus, I paid $5 for an after work beer, which I occasionally have...and never think twice about its cost.
So why did I get all indecisive about buying the pudding pops? Probably because the thing that I wanted very much was staring me in the face and actually having it was too overwhelming to comprehend.
Perhaps you're thinking that I'm a lady of low expectations to have such an emotional reaction to pudding pops, but I'm pretty certain that you do the same thing. There's likely something that you want, but it takes a bit more investment to procure or achieve than you had originally anticipated. It could be a purchase, but it also could be catching up with an old and awesome friend with whom you haven't been in touch with in a few years. Yesterday, in the U.S., it could have been voting for president. Or maybe it's updating your resume. Or learning how to knit. Or, if you've been me over the last couple of months, it could be blogging.
By having ADD, we often excuse ourself for not achieving what we want. I'm not talking about the "shoulds", as my ADD coach would say; that is, things we feel obligated to do. I am referring to the things in life that deep down, you really want. If you're like me and were diagnosed with ADD as an adult, you probably have an impressive track record of things that you started and never finished, as well as the squashed confidence that's a residual effect.
As a result, you take the easy way out or accept a lesser substitute for what you really want. I'll use the previous examples from two paragraphs ago as examples. So, instead of contacting your old friend, you write "hope to catch up soon!" on a holiday card and spend your time listening to the pal (of sorts) who calls when s/he needs an audience for her/his latest drama. Or maybe you decided to drive straight home from work yesterday because you live in one of the bluest states and you were planning to vote for Obama. And why try to get another job when the economy sucks? Or try to knit a sweater when there are plenty available at TJ Maxx? Or, if you're me, assert that you have no time to blog yet plenty to watch "What Not to Wear?"
In my earlier example with the pudding pops, I illogically felt like it didn't make sense to buy a box because the price differed from what I expected it to be. And I almost let this ridiculous notion overrule some other compelling points:
Were they the delicious pudding pops that I remembered from my youth? Totally.
Was I as excited to see them as I am to see the new James Bond movie? Heck yeah.
Did I have any issue with parting with $5 for my postwork beer? Of course not.
How we each spend our money, time, affection, attention, calories, and so forth is our owndecision. Are you using these resources on the people and things that you know will enhance your life and delight you? Or are you squandering them on people/things that fill your time or squander these resources?
With ADD, it's easy to accept second best. We're all used to everything having a higher degree of difficulty than what non-ADDers have to handle. But at the same time, don't use your ADD to justify not setting out to achieve anything that you want in life, small or large. If you do, that makes as much sense as a lady who shivers in the frozen foods aisle for way too many minutes as she grapples with the idea of shelling out an extra $2 for something that will keep her happy for a week.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Time for the important stuff...
My all-time least favorite work assignment hung over my head like a dark cloud for 2 weeks. It involves cross-referencing and organizing papers. Many many papers. Which is also known as the Nightmare on ADD Street. Usually, it's a task that I could handle intermittently while I completed other work. But in this case, I had a little over a week to finish it, and thinking about the task at hand made me want to down a bottle of Tums.
I began the hell assignment on a Tuesday, and I got a small bit of it done. At the end of the day, I promised myself that Wednesday would be the day that I would knock off a big chunk of it. But Wednesday came and went, and I yet again finished just a small part of it.
I left work on Wednesday feeling rather defeated. The thought of the work I had to do hung over my head like a dark cloud encircled with buzzards. I knew I needed to figure out a better way of getting the work accomplished. As I mulled over options for a "better way," the most novel idea struck me. One really effective way to finish the project would be to -- get this -- actually work on it.
I knew I hadn't been slacking off at work. However, I knew that I had been quick to respond to every email that landed in my inbox over the past couple of days. I also knew that I'd agreed to give a hand to a few others who needed assistance with some random, minor assignments that they had. In other words, I'd put everything else in front of the #1 priority that I needed to complete.
And so, I decided on Thursday to perform some self-recon on the amount of time that I spent on the tormenting assignment. Using the Journal feature of Microsoft Outlook as my timer, I started when I worked on the assignment, and stopped it when I worked on anything else. When lunchtime rolled around, a good 3+ hours after I arrived at the office, I checked the amount of time I'd spent on my "priority" assignment.
36 minutes.
I had spent the rest of my time on work of lesser priority, helping some coworkers, and yes, going for coffee. I maybe spent just 15 minutes on the coffee run. But still, 15 minutes was almost half the time that I spent on what I had deemed to be my #1 priority. Or had I actually deemed it to be my priority?
I think that, for ADDers, time slips through our fingers in a unique way. If we decide that something's important, then that's where our goes. And that's good, because we get to focus our energies on exactly what we want to do. However, that's also bad because there are some things that we must do, like taxes or hell assignments or buying groceries, whether or not they truly interest us. Certainly, you can get H&R Block to do your taxes or even have your groceries delivered. But you still have to decide to toss your receipts into a shoe box and hop in the car, or log onto the grocery delivery Web site.
When I went out at lunch on that Thursday, I thought about the face that having the assignment done would be like lifting a huge anvil off from my chest. I wouldn't walk around all dramatic, as if all the world's problems were mine to solve. And thinking about that feeling of, well, being free from the madness definitely provided me with motivation.
I returned from lunch optimistic that completing the assignment was within my reach. I continued to use the timer to keep myself accountable. Doing so definitely helped, because every time I paused it, it made me think for a minute whether my reason for pausing time merited my diversion from my assignment.
Indeed, at the 11th hour, I completed the assignment. Today, I started a new assignment that I enjoy so much that I didn't even consider using the timer. And because of this experience, I keep thinking about what I believe to be important and how much time I spend on it. Wow. Talk about having something to ponder...
I began the hell assignment on a Tuesday, and I got a small bit of it done. At the end of the day, I promised myself that Wednesday would be the day that I would knock off a big chunk of it. But Wednesday came and went, and I yet again finished just a small part of it.
I left work on Wednesday feeling rather defeated. The thought of the work I had to do hung over my head like a dark cloud encircled with buzzards. I knew I needed to figure out a better way of getting the work accomplished. As I mulled over options for a "better way," the most novel idea struck me. One really effective way to finish the project would be to -- get this -- actually work on it.
I knew I hadn't been slacking off at work. However, I knew that I had been quick to respond to every email that landed in my inbox over the past couple of days. I also knew that I'd agreed to give a hand to a few others who needed assistance with some random, minor assignments that they had. In other words, I'd put everything else in front of the #1 priority that I needed to complete.
And so, I decided on Thursday to perform some self-recon on the amount of time that I spent on the tormenting assignment. Using the Journal feature of Microsoft Outlook as my timer, I started when I worked on the assignment, and stopped it when I worked on anything else. When lunchtime rolled around, a good 3+ hours after I arrived at the office, I checked the amount of time I'd spent on my "priority" assignment.
36 minutes.
I had spent the rest of my time on work of lesser priority, helping some coworkers, and yes, going for coffee. I maybe spent just 15 minutes on the coffee run. But still, 15 minutes was almost half the time that I spent on what I had deemed to be my #1 priority. Or had I actually deemed it to be my priority?
I think that, for ADDers, time slips through our fingers in a unique way. If we decide that something's important, then that's where our goes. And that's good, because we get to focus our energies on exactly what we want to do. However, that's also bad because there are some things that we must do, like taxes or hell assignments or buying groceries, whether or not they truly interest us. Certainly, you can get H&R Block to do your taxes or even have your groceries delivered. But you still have to decide to toss your receipts into a shoe box and hop in the car, or log onto the grocery delivery Web site.
When I went out at lunch on that Thursday, I thought about the face that having the assignment done would be like lifting a huge anvil off from my chest. I wouldn't walk around all dramatic, as if all the world's problems were mine to solve. And thinking about that feeling of, well, being free from the madness definitely provided me with motivation.
I returned from lunch optimistic that completing the assignment was within my reach. I continued to use the timer to keep myself accountable. Doing so definitely helped, because every time I paused it, it made me think for a minute whether my reason for pausing time merited my diversion from my assignment.
Indeed, at the 11th hour, I completed the assignment. Today, I started a new assignment that I enjoy so much that I didn't even consider using the timer. And because of this experience, I keep thinking about what I believe to be important and how much time I spend on it. Wow. Talk about having something to ponder...
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
I now pronounce me properly attired
Hey folks, I’m back. Among the typical bumper crop of summer activities, I also had three weddings and their associated festivities to attend. Of course, these pose the typical coordination challenges to the ADDer, such as returning RSVP cards, showing up on time, buying gifts, and making travel arrangements. Oddly enough, I seem to have little problem with those tasks. Finding a dress to wear is what vexes me.
Initially, I didn’t think that finding frocks would pose a challenge. For wedding #1, I figured that the dress from my high school reunion would work well. I tried it on, and it fit and flattered. Crisis averted! For wedding #2, I mulled over wearing the dress I’d worn to a friend’s wedding a few years ago. I hesitated to try it on because I’d been extremely tan from a tropical vacation when I’d worn it. But I tried it on, and it fit and flattered my pasty self. Crisis averted!
And then there was wedding #3, a fancier evening affair that required a shopping trip. In true ADD-Libber fashion, I waited until 5 days before the event to make my purchase. Deciding shopping at one location would facilitate the task, I squandered some of my $4.00 gasoline and hightailed it to one of the giant suburban malls.
In one store, I plucked armfuls of dresses that met my vague criteria (classy but not stuffy, alluring but not slutty) from a bountiful sales rack. I hated them all. I felt the same about the non- discounted dresses. In another store, an adorable sales associate aided my pursuit. The dozen and a half that the lady and I selected failed to flatter, including the satiny number that looked incredibly attractive on the hanger but, on me, appeared like someone restrained me with an accordion.
Swallowing my pride, I made the ultimate in desperate moves. I went to Macy's.
When I go to Macy's, it's the equivalent of a Lifetime movie character who hocks her grandmother's diamond ring to pay for her crack habit: the epitome of rock-bottom desperation. I’d lost my enthusiasm for Macy’s when it subsumed my local and beloved department store chain. And its fitting rooms make me furious: chicly remodeled entryways lead to grungy little pens that hadn’t seen a paint job since the Soviet Union broke up.
After hunting the racks and hoisting my prey over one arm, I stepped into a fitting room with a giant pile of clothes that resembled the textile equivalent of San Francisco's World Famous Bushman. I overcame the fear that the pile would come to life and slipped on what likely was dress #46. Innocuous on the hanger, its v-neck reached my waist. And not in a good way. I laughed at my reflection because, in addition to my mussed hair from all of the try-ons, my eyes were bloodshot and the day’s makeup had faded away. Courtney Love would even think twice about attending a church ceremony attired the way that I was.
That moment of humor in the dressing room calmed me down a bit. I’d worked myself into such a frenzy over acquiring a dress. Oh, the drama! I made my only purchase of the night, a lemonade in the food court, and headed home.
Even though I intended to abandon the dress issue for the rest of the night, I happily did not. To relax a bit, I organized some of my digital photos on my computer. These included a few from a recent New Years Eve…when I attended a ball...in an adorable black dress with beading and a swishy skirt…that, wait, still hung in my closet? Yes! It was there, behind a few skirts that I’ve been meaning to get altered for years. I tried it on, and it fit and flattered. Crisis averted!
And here’s the moral of the story: I can’t see straight when I get all worked up. That’s likely true for you as well, if you have ADD. So next time something like this happens to me, I’m going to try to stop what I’m doing, and get a lemonade, and trust that things work out. Of course, the challenge will be to figure out, in the moment, that I need to do this!
Initially, I didn’t think that finding frocks would pose a challenge. For wedding #1, I figured that the dress from my high school reunion would work well. I tried it on, and it fit and flattered. Crisis averted! For wedding #2, I mulled over wearing the dress I’d worn to a friend’s wedding a few years ago. I hesitated to try it on because I’d been extremely tan from a tropical vacation when I’d worn it. But I tried it on, and it fit and flattered my pasty self. Crisis averted!
And then there was wedding #3, a fancier evening affair that required a shopping trip. In true ADD-Libber fashion, I waited until 5 days before the event to make my purchase. Deciding shopping at one location would facilitate the task, I squandered some of my $4.00 gasoline and hightailed it to one of the giant suburban malls.
In one store, I plucked armfuls of dresses that met my vague criteria (classy but not stuffy, alluring but not slutty) from a bountiful sales rack. I hated them all. I felt the same about the non- discounted dresses. In another store, an adorable sales associate aided my pursuit. The dozen and a half that the lady and I selected failed to flatter, including the satiny number that looked incredibly attractive on the hanger but, on me, appeared like someone restrained me with an accordion.
Swallowing my pride, I made the ultimate in desperate moves. I went to Macy's.
When I go to Macy's, it's the equivalent of a Lifetime movie character who hocks her grandmother's diamond ring to pay for her crack habit: the epitome of rock-bottom desperation. I’d lost my enthusiasm for Macy’s when it subsumed my local and beloved department store chain. And its fitting rooms make me furious: chicly remodeled entryways lead to grungy little pens that hadn’t seen a paint job since the Soviet Union broke up.
After hunting the racks and hoisting my prey over one arm, I stepped into a fitting room with a giant pile of clothes that resembled the textile equivalent of San Francisco's World Famous Bushman. I overcame the fear that the pile would come to life and slipped on what likely was dress #46. Innocuous on the hanger, its v-neck reached my waist. And not in a good way. I laughed at my reflection because, in addition to my mussed hair from all of the try-ons, my eyes were bloodshot and the day’s makeup had faded away. Courtney Love would even think twice about attending a church ceremony attired the way that I was.
That moment of humor in the dressing room calmed me down a bit. I’d worked myself into such a frenzy over acquiring a dress. Oh, the drama! I made my only purchase of the night, a lemonade in the food court, and headed home.
Even though I intended to abandon the dress issue for the rest of the night, I happily did not. To relax a bit, I organized some of my digital photos on my computer. These included a few from a recent New Years Eve…when I attended a ball...in an adorable black dress with beading and a swishy skirt…that, wait, still hung in my closet? Yes! It was there, behind a few skirts that I’ve been meaning to get altered for years. I tried it on, and it fit and flattered. Crisis averted!
And here’s the moral of the story: I can’t see straight when I get all worked up. That’s likely true for you as well, if you have ADD. So next time something like this happens to me, I’m going to try to stop what I’m doing, and get a lemonade, and trust that things work out. Of course, the challenge will be to figure out, in the moment, that I need to do this!
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