Squirrel!

I have a confession to make. I started this post 3 hours ago. And these are the first words I’ve written on it.

Uh?

Oh, I see you don’t come from ADD land. Well, we do things differently here, so let me give you the guided tour.

Actually the post started when I finished the post on my own blog. But I’d mentioned a pavane, and suddenly I was taken with an absolute need to see what a pavane looked like. Which in turn took me through a bizarre tour of other baroque dances, and then to baroque costumes, and then from that…

Well, I watched (sometimes on fast forward) the majority of a French movie called Le Roi Danse, but in my defense — pats self on back — strenuously resisted watching a movie on the romance of Louis XIV and Madame de Montespan. Made some notes on the bureaucratic state and the “planned decadence” of the court of Louis XIV. Went downstairs to the library in search of The Black Count, about Dumas’ father. Resisted reading it. Okay, resisted reading all but a couple of chapters to refresh my memory on the mores of the time (I read the book when it came out.)

Went to you tube to look at baroque costumes. Got captured by movies of CGI that converts historic portraits to “real people.”

Realized it was almost one thirty am. Dear Lord, I’m going to be dead all day tomorrow. What’s wrong with me?

Well, what’s wrong with me is ADD (actually I suspect ADHD because when in full flight, I can’t actually sit still, and the only way to write is to either dictate or walk on the treadmill while I type.)

Though of course I had no idea of this until son informed me, because he’s ADD but — according to him — I’m ADD AF. You can fill in the AF.

Look, I should have known, okay? Until hearing and sight made some tasks more difficult, I used to listen to two or three conversations, and participate in all of them. I used to watch a movie, read and do cross stitch all at the same time. My happiest times were when I was massively overscheduled, or alternatively raising toddlers and infants, and keeping house, and writing six to seven novels a year.

But it never occurred to me. I was just who I was.

So– once the boys left, I just had trouble settling down to anything.

So– there’s adderal. Other than the fact that I think I need double the dose, but it’s not worth fighting it, and I can titrate with caffeine, it works.

…. Except–

Except that since March came in like a lion and is going out like a rabid weasel with its tail stuck in the garbage disposal, and I’ve become a living barometer, developing congestion and the world’s worst headaches on the lead up to yet another d*mn sudden snow storm (Really? REALLY? I mean Monday’s high was in the 60s, and then….) I periodically need to take benadryl at night.

And when I do I pay for it, because on the next day all adderal can do is bring me back to normal ADD.

I have absolutely no idea where today went. It was here just a minute ago, I swear. I did a couple of loads of laundry. And I …. might have painted some gourds. And cooked and ate dinner.

Other than that? Search me. I swear I wrote something, but then– Squirrel!

Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day, because I have novels to finish. And I really can’t go and kidnap some infant to look after, and younger son refuses to come running into my office every five minutes to show me a drawing or a lego construction. For one because — he says — he has better things to do with his time. (Right. As if.)

So, you know what? I’m going to bed, before I look up how to dance the Gavotte, because otherwise husband will get up at 6 and I’ll be here, watching videos on the life of Leonardo DaVinci and renaissance cooking.

As fascinating and amazing as it would be to while one’s life away learning strange stuff, in the end it would be whiling ones life away and as effective a method of suicide as any I can think of.

Because in the end, we’re not just people. We’re people who exist in a certain segment of time. And as fun as it is dissolving in a search for knowledge, unless it’s directed and aimed at something, in the end it’s just dissolving, and frittering our lives away.

Heaven knows, I’ve done enough of that.

But I will get it under control.

Someone bring me a squirrel-shooting gun.

Tomorrow, I reclaim my time.

34 comments

  1. I’ve probably wasted YEARS of my lifespan just chasing random information I’ve come across on the Internet. Then again, as a kid (pre-Internet) I used to read random parts of the encyclopedia when I was bored on summer break from school.

    I have more useless facts in the depths of my head than anybody except maybe – a writer? (And I can’t really be calling myself a writer at present as haven’t even gotten out a single page in months. Studying lots of books about plotting, and outlining, and story structure though.)

    1. “wasted” sounds a little negative. Some people read endless novels or literature for pleasure. They seldom consider that time wasted.
      My family is blessed with a variety of characteristics falling into the ADHD and Autistic spectrum (they are no longer considered mutually exclusive) .
      We see it mostly as a positive. Different people face different challenges making the most of their strengths.

      I somehow escaped the the world of books. I remember watching the original Blade Runner in the west end 1982/83. I Was almost certainly under 18. But I was 6ft tall at 13 and back then no pne checked ID
      I wanted to have the physical skills of a Replicant.

      Perhaps I got a little obsessive . Followed up with some time in the military during the cold war before settling into the rest of the adventure.

      Eventually you may realise that to make really effective use of the mass of information , requires something to change internally.

      i don’t know exactly how it happened but after blundering into a few movie sets, something changed

      I remember sitting the 11 plus exam at school and I just wasn’t able to complete it in the time. Despite the rules the teacher gave me an hour extra. I’d have failed that very basic streaming test otherwise.

      I got 5 A levels and 13 O levels without being able to ever focus enough to do homework or revision.

      Not much use without the focus.

      My graduate qualifications came much later .

      But after my more recent adventures 40 years on from that 11 plus. I was uged to take an IQ test with Mensa . The exam was Very similar to the 11 plus. With High speed answers required spending too long on a question would destroy any chance of a decent result.

      But this time it was like looking calmly at a clear pool off water.

      The wideband internal datastream was no longer a distraction. Something had changed and I calmly ran through the questions and got an embarrassingly high score that led me to this Forrum/Blog.

      You have to be a little careful once it all Gels together for whatever reason.

      My old friends provided me with rather clear instructions regarding keeping some information in your head.

      My sense of humour has been known to gets me unwanted attention .

      No one really noticed before the ability to focus properly developed.

      Sadly I can’t really explain the how or why. Just an interesting sequence of events I guess.

    2. “… I used to read random parts of the encyclopedia …”

      Wait, this isn’t normal??

          1. Unless it’s supermarket tabloids … the only time I wish I could turn auto-read off.

    3. “You know more stuff that don’t make you no money than anybody I know.” — Hawk to Spenser

  2. My kids are all suddenly deaf.

    Besides the usual kid deafness to “no,” they now trade off asking the same question.

    While inches away from each other.

    Come on, Easter, we need it….

  3. Just last night, I was finishing my story for the Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Writing Challenge, went to look up information on train whistles, and ended up spending half an hour reading about train whistles and horns and listening to half a dozen clips on YouTube of various kinds of trains sounding off. And that was for a 250-word story. I’ve had times when I’ve fallen down the research rabbit hole for days.

  4. “Someone bring me a squirrel-shooting gun.”

    Please specify if you would like a squirrel launcher or a gun for shooting at squirrels. The launcher we have in stock is 50mm, and can get your average Red up to 60 feet per second. Greys are a little slower.

    1. A Squirrel Gun should go nicely with the Carp Catapult. 😛

      What transgressions should be punished with Ballistic Squirrels, though?

          1. Ooh. Ooh. Me. Me. Call me, please, teacher!

            In all seriousness, I think the most annoying trolls hit dishonest, boring, and repetitive a lot more frequently than I do.

            And I’ve been trying to think up something funnier than squirrel gun to say I prefer being hit by.

            So far, the best is a gun that shoots radar units. As in, complete radar systems, both antenna, transceiver, and all the other bits.

  5. Resolutely ignoring every single path to go down in this post. Except maybe the Black Count. I have unpacking to do. Get thee behind me youtube.

  6. Two sisters and a brother have ADHD; mostly only a problem when they decide to pick fights for mental stimulation. Or when sister/roommate’s hoarding runs into my anxiety about stuff.

  7. Participating in multiple conversations at once? Sounds like you have a career in 9-1-1 dispatching. Especially as you can keep your head while others around you are losing theirs. If you ever get bored, go seek out your local PSAP (Public Safety Answering Point) and apply, everyone is always hiring.

    1. Actually the unique skill I used to have — again,problem now is I’m mostly deaf. runs in mom’s family and thank you mom for that lovely gift — was simultaneous multilingual interpreting.
      Was …. fun. I can still do instant interpretation, but three languages tops.

      1. One of my Dad’s cousin’s was a simultaneous Russian interpreter, which made for a very interesting phone call when my Dad was in the Navy and got pulled out of a class by a captain to take a call from the Pentagon – Russian Intelligence Division.

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