All About Attention Deficit...wait, what?
Q: How many kids with A.D.D does it take to screw in a lightbulb?
A: Hey, wanna go ride bikes?
I wasn't any kind of serious case, but I was diagnosed with the ol' ADD when I was a wee bastard, brainwave charts and everything. Now that I'm an adult (I guess), it's not really detrimental, but its effects are occasionally hilarious.
When I got up this morning, I had intended to finish watching Disc 2 of House, M.D. Season 2, so I could take it back to Blockbuster and get something else (Disc 3, probably-- I love that show like Charlie Sheen loves transvestite hookers). I jumped down from bed and headed for the living room, making it about a foot before I got distracted by my computer and decided to check my email.
So I proceeded with that, and about halfway through, remembered that last night's episode of Heroes (which I thought maybe I was going to appear in) was now online, so I watched that.
Having done that, I continued my marathon 15-foot trek to the living room, and passed a small mirror, which revealed that I probably needed a shower, possibly a haircut, and definitely a better place to put that mirror so it wasn't distracting me all the fucking time.
So it was definitely shower time. I dropped my pants, pulled a towel off its wall hook, and then saw my rent invoice tacked to my cork board, and resolved to pay it right then, so I wouldn't forget.
I actually managed that entire task all in one run--made it all the way to the dining room table and dropped off the check, where I noticed the vacuum cleaner, which must have previously been in someone else's room because I hadn't seen it in weeks, which meant my room was due for a good vacuuming.
Back to my room I went, with Señor Dirt Diablo, and gave the floor a go for about 20 seconds before I figured out that my loud little cylindrical Satan was pretty much just pushing crap around without picking any up. Made a mental note to stop buying cleaning appliances named after the Lord of Darkness, and got out the tools for some minor surgery. As it happens, it was a massive ball of crap stopping up the bastard, which I managed to break up and push out with the aid of a rifle bayonet and a great deal of creative profanity.
Reassembled, the satanic suck-machine was much more cooperative, and I got about half my floor done until I ran into my old Mosin 91/30, from which the bayonet had come. Its position in my room was totally non-conducive to my vacuuming process, and generally annoyed me for no well-defined reason, so a new home had to be found, right then.
I wandered about the room looking for an appropriate perch for a 4-foot bolt-action piece of dirty Commie history, and once again got distracted by my computer.
So here I am, sitting at my computer posting to my blog, with a huge Russian battle rifle across my lap and no pants on. If you've ever wondered what A.D.D is like, this is it, right here.
So how about that bike ride?
A: Hey, wanna go ride bikes?
I wasn't any kind of serious case, but I was diagnosed with the ol' ADD when I was a wee bastard, brainwave charts and everything. Now that I'm an adult (I guess), it's not really detrimental, but its effects are occasionally hilarious.
When I got up this morning, I had intended to finish watching Disc 2 of House, M.D. Season 2, so I could take it back to Blockbuster and get something else (Disc 3, probably-- I love that show like Charlie Sheen loves transvestite hookers). I jumped down from bed and headed for the living room, making it about a foot before I got distracted by my computer and decided to check my email.
So I proceeded with that, and about halfway through, remembered that last night's episode of Heroes (which I thought maybe I was going to appear in) was now online, so I watched that.
Having done that, I continued my marathon 15-foot trek to the living room, and passed a small mirror, which revealed that I probably needed a shower, possibly a haircut, and definitely a better place to put that mirror so it wasn't distracting me all the fucking time.
So it was definitely shower time. I dropped my pants, pulled a towel off its wall hook, and then saw my rent invoice tacked to my cork board, and resolved to pay it right then, so I wouldn't forget.
I actually managed that entire task all in one run--made it all the way to the dining room table and dropped off the check, where I noticed the vacuum cleaner, which must have previously been in someone else's room because I hadn't seen it in weeks, which meant my room was due for a good vacuuming.
Back to my room I went, with Señor Dirt Diablo, and gave the floor a go for about 20 seconds before I figured out that my loud little cylindrical Satan was pretty much just pushing crap around without picking any up. Made a mental note to stop buying cleaning appliances named after the Lord of Darkness, and got out the tools for some minor surgery. As it happens, it was a massive ball of crap stopping up the bastard, which I managed to break up and push out with the aid of a rifle bayonet and a great deal of creative profanity.
Reassembled, the satanic suck-machine was much more cooperative, and I got about half my floor done until I ran into my old Mosin 91/30, from which the bayonet had come. Its position in my room was totally non-conducive to my vacuuming process, and generally annoyed me for no well-defined reason, so a new home had to be found, right then.
I wandered about the room looking for an appropriate perch for a 4-foot bolt-action piece of dirty Commie history, and once again got distracted by my computer.
So here I am, sitting at my computer posting to my blog, with a huge Russian battle rifle across my lap and no pants on. If you've ever wondered what A.D.D is like, this is it, right here.
So how about that bike ride?
Labels: I swear this is true.
posted by Nate Falls at
00:18
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