This post is the first of 30, wherein I will be dropping 30 posts in the month of November as part of NaBloPoMo, or “National Blog Post(ing) Month,” or Nablo Pomo, former left-handed reliever for the class-AA Donxberg Burros. Long strider, wicked curve ball, but like a lot of young men in his era, he got caught up with the Wicked White Witch and never came off the ride. Talkin’ about sugar, friends. The diabetes got ‘im.
OK, OK… I’m slagging off some things in life because they don’t seem to capture my attention. I realized in the past 48hours I had started a few small things, made calls I needed to, and got things in order for the changes in my life from Affordable Care Act-fallout. But then, for some of these things and calls, I didn’t get a response right away. So now they slip off the radar. The ADD brain doesn’t appreciate that. In fact, one returned call was a voicemail that made almost no correlation to what I had originally called in about, further confusing the scenario, and causing another step for me. Again, added clutter to the brain space of an ADD mind. Not good, bro.
And I realize that procrastinating isn’t unique the ADD’ers, it’s just more prevalent. I have a “do now” gear and a “do another time” backlog. It’s not prioritized, although I have a long list of things I need to get done in the next few weeks to makes we’re all on the same page with life and society. If you looked at it, or a police officer was searching my car and found the list, well I’d have to probably walk through it to show you I mean no harm and YES, I’m fine, so let’s all just chill out for a bit. The BrainBath list is so good for me to do. It’s a constant reference point of things that seemed important at one point, and keeps my brain free of debris and detritus. The trick is going back to it.
I can imagine how frustrating I must be to live with. I have always been a guy who, when given a task and tools and time, will get to work and get something done if left alone to do it. But that work style and parenting don’t exist in the same housing development, let alone cul de sac. I often tell my wife “It takes a long time to be me.” What I mean is that, in order to get in order and stay in order, I need time TONIGHT to prep for TOMORROW, or tomorrow will just be a bust and nothing’s going to get done. Clothes packed for work after the gym, laptop bag packed for work, lunch ready to go, coffee set to auto-brew come the morn, etc. And it’s usually only stuff I can do for me, which makes my time “in my space” seem like avoidance of the family, and it’s not at all.
This is all retro-perspective now of my ADD brain as an adolescent; when given a task I wanted to do, I’d nail it. But add layers of unnecessary complexity to my Summer job of mowing neighborhood lawns (other people, bad tools, sunbathing step-daughters asking if I like Mötley Crüe) and my ability to get the work done slips. Now we have unfocused people with no ability to steer an edger, and they’re too hot to work and now I hate my friend. Then I would have to be more of a leader and say “Guys, we gotta get this done so we can get to the next lawn and get paid and see if Brendan’s brother can score us some wine coolers.” And then somebody would bitch about me being a dickhead and I’d give ’em $10 and send ’em along.
So I am learning that the best way for me to avoid procrastination is do one thing NOW. It’s proven that multitasking is bunk, your brain can only focus on “a” task at a time. You don’t want a surgeon taking calls when they’re 2 knuckles deep in any part of your body. So if you have an ADD’er in your life, and you notice half-done work, odds are they were on their way to Finishberg and got pulled away, not “sidetracked.” If you have the money to shop for your groceries, but no time… or the time, but no money, what good is any of it? Give me enough time, and space, and things get done. Give me however much time you THINK it should take and stand around asking rhetorical questions about toilet replacement codes in remodeled bathrooms, while not handing me a pitch-dark porter, and you may as well be winging full diapers at my head asking me to sing “Girls, Girls, Girls” without warming up. I’m gonna be hoarse and there’s gonna be a lot of crap laying around.