Sunday, March 28, 2010

A much needed break

But I'm back (I think).

We've gotten a little glimpse at how things go at times when I lose consistency. Lots of promises of what I'll do next in an attempt connect myself to what needs to be done, and then a successive sequence of not following through.

My choices when this happens are always the same. I can either 1. give up and figure that I've lost the connection to what I was doing or 2. keep trying and risk looking like a fool with failed attempt after failed attempt.

I choose the latter, because I know that eventually I'll reconnect. And this blog is worth it to me. But do be patient for me if I have another failed attempt or two.

I think I'm ready though.

Until tomorrow (hopefully!).

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Inspirational quotes for ADHD--Albert Einstein

The idle man does not know what it is to enjoy rest.

--Albert Einstein

This quote is very true. And I know it.

Monday, March 22, 2010

This is me barely hanging on

I know it's lame.  But this is all today's post is.  My cousin just IM'ed me and said "you're 56 minutes away from failure."  And I'm busy doing other stuff.  So, here's my post!  

Man.  Well, you do what you can.  

Until tomorrow

Sunday, March 21, 2010

New goal

My new goal is my old goal.  Every day until April 7th.  Tomorrow I'll do a quote post.  Gotta get back in it.

Good night, all.

Friday, March 19, 2010

And... exhale.

Do you feel that catharsis?

It finally happened.  The tension was rising and rising, and then, bloop, I finally--completely on accident--woke up one morning (this morning, as it turns out) and said "I didn't post yesterday."  

I know the tension was killing you, so you, like me, are probably actually a little bit relieved that this happened.  

There wasn't anything particularly trying about yesterday (still working on the paper that was due over a week ago.  Welcome to my life!  So I "worked on that" for a while).  

I just... got distracted and forgot.  

So.  Hmm.  

I guess this means I can kind of redefine things if I want.  I've been feeling a loss of steam here, which I think is natural as the newness of a project wears off and it becomes more of a standard part of life.  So, that being the case, I'm wondering what kind of structure to give myself that might enhance the quality of posts here, but not completely obliterate quantity.  Every two days?  Keep going daily?  Monday, Wednesdays, Sundays?  

I haven't yet decided, I guess.  I think for now I'm going to keep going daily, and maybe decide how I'll proceed on Sunday.  

Thanks for witnessing my experiment.  I lasted WAY longer than I had anticipated.  

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Happy St. Patrick's Day

Today was a great day.  

As I was leaving for work, I realized that I wouldn't get to see my girls dressed in their St. Patrick's garb.  So Lolly (my wife) brought them to work during lunch.

It was so fun to have them there--I got to show them off to all the amazing people I work with, and then we went to lunch at Panera's, and walked around, and got some See's candy.  The girl's loved it, and so did I.  My youngest, Viva, who is two, was absolutely riveted by the chocolate. She has quite a sweet tooth.  We bought her a little chocolate Leprechaun, and turned around for just a moment only to discover that she'd already unwrapped it and was going to town--chocolate all over her face. Anna, my oldest, was holding out for a green cupcake she knew was awaiting her at home.  The whole afternoon was awesome.

Then, two clients cancelled (usually not great news, but today, a relief), so I got off early, did a bunch of needed paperwork, and came home. And tomorrow, I don't have school--spring break.  
I'm feeling good.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

ADHD Anecdote--My Solo, AGAIN

Yeah.  So, this entry  tells the sad story of a solo that I didn't get to play because I, for no apparent reason, forgot to take my violin from my classroom to the bus back in elementary school.  At the end of the post I mentioned that I hadn't "learned my lesson" about messing up solos.  Part of the reason for mentioning that was to illustrate that, for those with ADHD-I, there isn't a lesson to learn. It's a symptom. Not a cautionary tale.

I said that for another reason, too.

In 9th grade, my last year of junior high, my violin skillz had increased.   I had finally (after several years of playing) learned to read the notes.  I'd been selected for a local youth symphony, and that year had started private lessons.  Because of these advancements in my musical career, I was given a pretty auspicious responsibility:  I was concert master of the junior high orchestra.  Impressive, I know. 
Violinists Hands

As part of this coveted position, I had the responsibility of playing solos that arose every once in a while in the songs we played.  These solos usually consisted of about three to ten measures of me playing some basic melody while the rest of the orchestra "rested" (read: napped.)  

About mid-way through the year, there was this song called "Jogging."  I still remember its melody very clearly--mainly because the below experience seared it into my brain.  Not only did I have a little solo in this song, but it was a pretty tough song for our group.  Our teacher told me on the night of our concert that he was nervous about us playing it, and that he was really going to rely on me to get us through it.  I could tell it was important to him.

That night, I honestly don't know what happened.  My parent's knew about the concert, but I was supposed to find a ride for myself.  I have no idea why, and didn't understand then.  There was likely a very good reason for it.  I didn't understand it, though.  Although at the last minute I made a few desperate phone calls, I didn't find a ride.  In a panic (a frequent state of my existence then and now) I asked my dad for a ride.  He was not pleased--at that moment he was in the middle of cooking dinner.  He finished cooking and eating (probably in a well-intentioned effort to let me suffer the consequences of my actions) and then drove me to the concert.

I burst into the orchestra room (which was adjacent to the stage) at about the time our group was to perform.  To my horror, the room was empty.  My group was already on stage.  I could hear the tune of "Jogging" being played in the distance.  I had no idea what to do with myself.  I felt stunted.  I felt sick.  

I finally just sat down in a chair and waited, feeling ill to my stomach, for the performance to be over.  I had really couldn't comprehend why I was in that situation--it all felt so hazy and helpless.  To this day, I don't remember the details of what was going on that afternoon that had conspired to make me late.  I assume there were good reasons for what had happened.  But the problem was, I didn't understand them.  I didn't get it.  Couldn't get it.  


My group came back from their performance, and the director looked at me disappointedly.  I had let him down.  A classmate told me later that before the group played, my teacher had gone up to the mike and said something like "If the person who we are waiting for is here in the audience, would you please come on stage and play with us?  We need you."  I hadn't heard the call.  I hadn't been there for that signal--I'd gotten there probably just after that announcement. I had really messed up.

But the story doesn't end there.  And this, this is the most horrifying part of the inattentive subtype to me.  This is so crazy and weird and horrible, I have never been able to explain it.  

When something terrible timing-wise like this happens, it seals a marker in my brain.  A marker which says "You can never, ever, ever let this happen again."  And with that emphasis, somehow, somehow, the very thing I promise to never let happen again (even if it's crazy, like missing an entire concert I'm performing in) does.  I have no idea why this is the case, but it happens somewhat frequently to me.  Very little in this world feels more embarrassing.

It was three weeks later.  We had a concert during the school day.  We were supposed to meet at the orchestra room after lunch to prepare for a performance.  I can't remember who we were playing for--I think it was for the elementary students of all the surrounding elementary schools to demonstrate what orchestra is like (which, incidentally, when I saw it in 4th grade, was the concert inspired me to play the violin.) 

Lunch came.  Lunch went.  I went to science class like any other normal day.  Surely there was an announcement for orchestra members to come to the orchestra room on the loudspeaker.  Surely I had been reminded of this concert many, many times.  Surely other kids left the very room I was in to go to this performance.  But, by some crazy chance, I didn't hear or notice or remember any of this--I didn't pick up on any cue that the time had come.  I was likely zoned out, thinking about something interesting to me, or reading a John Grisham or Michael Crichton novel (which I devoured during my junior high years).  Maybe I was doing homework (ha!).  

Whatever the case, it didn't occur to me that I was supposed to be on the stage playing a solo until it was too late.  When just enough minutes had passed to seal my fate, it hit me in a flash:  "YOU ARE MISSING THE CONCERT!!!"  I clumsily grappled for my instrument, then ran down the hall to the orchestra room.  And imagine my deja vu as I walked into the empty orchestra room and then felt the horrible guilt ball in my stomach for a second time as I heard the sounds of "Jogging" playing off on the stage, in the distance.

I had missed the same concert, with the same song, containing the same solo, AGAIN.

Humiliated doesn't begin to describe how I felt. 

I always get to the end of these anecdotes not sure what to say.  It's kind of cathartic to talk about these horrible moments--things I've kind of blocked out.  It's interesting to see this collection grow.  To see these stories accumulate and build, and to remember details I had long since blocked out, and to realize "Yeah.  This is weird.  And not normal.  And covers the span of my existence.  So, go figure."

There is also a part of me that though that, seeing these things in black and white, feels very embarrassed even to this day.  It's probably the same part of me that gets the sickening ball of guilt when stuff like this happens to me as an adult.

It's not pretty.  It's not fun.  But it's real.  And that's all I got.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Little Girls

I was just told to shut my computer (even though I have another post abrewin') by my two sweet little girls.  They want me to play "sleeping monster" with them.  This is a game where I pretend to be asleep, and then they touch me, and it "wakes" me, and I say "Do I feel the touch of two little girls?!" and then crawl around the house and tickle them.

Frankly, "Sleeping Monster" (and the family home evening that will follow) are much more important than anything else.  My other post will have to wait until tomorrow.

Have a good night, friends.  

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Inspirational quotes for ADHD--Arnold J. Toynbee

The supreme accomplishment is to blur the line between work and play.
--Arnold J. Toynbee
If there is one thing that someone with ADHD-I is good at, it is this: working hard at things that are play. When he or she finds something interesting, hours and hours (which often "should" be spent doing something else) are spent doing that thing. This can be in things that are actual play--like video games. Often, though, it is engagement in or research about a very productive topic. In fact, often when one sees a person with the inattentive subtype of ADHD zoned out, even though he or she appears to be completely spaced, the truth is he or she is most likely very, very concentrated on something that's interesting to him or her, to the exclusion of all other stimuli.

The trick, and the cleverness of this quote, I think, is finding vocation in areas where there is pre-existent interest. Obviously, this is a beneficial objective for all people, but especially so for someone with the inattentive subtype. For me, I've come to realize it means receiving training in different areas of interest so that I can spend time doing things that interest me in multiple arenas. That way, when I'm distracted from one important project, I might find myself doing another important project. This doesn't always work, but it definitely helps.

And let's face it, I need all the help I can get.

Saturday, March 13, 2010


Paper that was due yesterday?

Not done.


No longer existent.  I could technically turn this thing in anytime before the 25th.  This is not good.

Time spent today "working" on it?

Five hours.

Pages written?


Number of music videos watched, youtube interviews consumed, games of online Scrabble played, websites visited, visits to facebook, etc.?


Most pressing desire?

To gouge my own eyes out.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Inspirational Quote for ADHD--Thomas A. Edison

I didn't get to post a quote on Sunday because I was too busy celebrating the one-month miracle. But I found a quote that I really liked so I wanted to share.

Being busy does not always mean real work. The object of all work is production or accomplishment and to either of these ends there must be forethought, system, planning, intelligence, and honest purpose, as well as perspiration. Seeming to do is not doing.

--Thomas A. Edison
One of the things that I find to be true of myself is that the little time that I spend actually working, I am working hard. It's usually on something that I have premeditated, planned on accomplishing, and want very much. For me, it has to have those components in order to bypass the distracted tendencies of my mind. So, even though getting a graduate degree for me could be viewed as the totality of a smattering of intense study-sessions and panicked projects that occurred at the perimeters of the class-periods when things were due (as opposed to a consistent, staid, gradual progression of reading, application, and accomplishment), those moments were absolutely germane to my endgame, and achieved the same aim.

Sometimes I feel that my productivity doesn't "count" as much because of a lack of consistency--like that maybe the haphazard nature of my productivity makes the end result as splotchy as my productivity feels. But I think this quote gives hope--it is saying that the thing that matters is the actual work. Busyness is busyness. But accomplishment is application of skills to a specific aim until that aim is achieved, no matter when or how (or just how inconsistently) that application is executed.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

ADHD Anecdote--Classic Josh (forgetting the one needed thing)

You know how I mentioned that there's this book that I have to read for an essay (which is due today at 5:45)? Well, a good friend of mine who is a fellow intern at the agency I work at was kind enough to bring it to me yesterday.

So, after a long day of therapizing, paperwork, etc. I decide to leave early and not do casenotes so I can work on the stuff due today. I hop in my car and start driving when it occurs to me that, genius that I am, I have left the text required for the essay I plan to work on at the agency. Such a familiar, familiar feeling, this careless forgetting, yet nonetheless totally frustrating.

By this point, mind you, it's 10:00pm (I work late on Wednesdays). So, I turn around, barely avoiding the attention of a passing patrol car, and wind my way back to the agency. When I get up to do the door, I am horrified a second time. I, genius that I am again, do not have the key to the front door of the agency.

So, there I stand, torn between wanting to be responsible and wanting to be home, frustrated that yet again--and after all these years--I still do stuff like this constantly constantly constantly, debating whether I should await the janitor who is making his rounds on the second floor, or just go home.

I call Lolly. She has already gone to bed. I've now woken up my sleeping wife. (She seriously is a saint for not disowning me for stuff like this.) She sweetly looks for the key I left so that I could maybe come home and then go to the agency in the morning (before it opened).

Minutes and minutes pass. She does not respond. It's cold. My breath is starting to frost in the cooling air. My hands are freezing. I start pacing back and forth, eyes glued to the second-story window looking for the janitor to finish doing his thing, switching the phone from hand to hand, warming one in a pocket while the other holds the phone to my ear.

"I couldn't find it," she says. Crap. I now must without question wait for the janitor to finish. And, added bonus: I have lost the key to the front door to the building I work in, which I need to return upon graduating. Genius!

An hour or so later, I was home, book in hand. Thankfully.

What does this story say about me? Not sure. Murphy's law says this kind of thing happens to everybody. But for me, this is so commonplace it's almost laughable. All I know is that there was one thing I needed to leave the agency with yesterday in order to function today. And somehow, somehow, I managed to walk out the door without that one thing.

Kind of obnoxious.

But, today is going much better. Got out the door on time, and am now on campus, ready to essay my way to a graduate degree. Go Josh!

(And yes, ps, I started to walk out the door this morning without having put the stupid book in my bag.)

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

To do:

1. Call to do special population consultations for five clients.

2. Do four therapy sessions

3. Read an entire text-book

4. Document every session since June with the client about whom I'm doing my final case presentation using the file's case notes, which are not allowed out of the building.

5. Write approximately 20 case notes for other clients.

6. Supervision.

7. Not succumb to suicidal ideations.

Ready..... GO!

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The Usual

Last week of the term, and I'm in a very familiar place. I've stacked all the work that needs to be done into the next two days. Of course, I've attempted to work on things prior to this, but those attempts yielded nothing. So, now I've gotta bust a move and make this thing happen. I've got my last big research paper of grad school to do, and then a huge analysis for my final case presentation (which I'll give next term). But the thing about the research paper is this: it is based on a particular book. A book, you see, which I have not read. A book which my classmates likely read months ago. A book that--ooops!--I didn't buy in time before it got sent from the book store and--oops again!--I didn't remember to order online. So yeah. It's on a book I literally don't own.

Classic. This scenario is so classic. It's so classic in fact that I'm not even stressed. And that's a bad, bad thing.

I'm so close to graduation I can taste it... one term left, and I only have to accrue about 80 more therapy hours (which means I've done 420. I can't believe it).

But right now I have a very distant feeling of horror--a feeling in which I acknowledge the massive amount of work I have to do before Thursday, and yet also acknowledge that if I sit down to work, nothing will come yet. Not until the moment is ripe, and there is no time left, and the adrenaline courses through me.

Today, the adrenaline hasn't kicked in. Hours have passed with hardly any result as I've sat and "worked." Frustrating, of course. But c'est la vie, suppose. Tomorrow, I'm in therapy all day long. This leaves Wednesday night and Thursday to pump these bad-boys out. And as always, the question in the back of my mind is: will I pull this off?

If experience is any indication, then yes. Yes, I will. But it won't be pretty.

The next two days are gonna be hell.

Monday, March 8, 2010

New look and an interesting article

Turning over a new leaf?

Not sure what I think about the new look--really I'd like to customize something--but this will do for now I guess.

Also, don't know if you saw her comment from a while ago, but my friend Bridget Samuels left a link to a very interesting article which I'll share today. It discusses findings that ADHD might be the result of the over-activity of a protein that regulates dopaminergic pathways. In other words, they have found in genetically altered mice a model of what might be happening in the brains of those who have ADHD.

Pretty awesome.

Also, I'm not sure if those results pertain to those with the inattentive subtype (it seemed they were measuring against behaviors and medications typically having to do with the hyperactive subtype), but in any event, this kind of research does nothing but help bolster the cause.

Time to go therapize.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Celebrate!! It's a Miracle!

Well, the miracle occurred.

I kept it together. For an entire month, I didn't miss one day. I cut it very close several times, but I was still able to do it--able to post something at least moderately substantial most days, and able to check in every single day without fail.
Group of Young People at a Party

(In case you were wondering, I keep having the "Celebrate Good Times" dance from the first season of 30 Rock flash through my brain.)

I don't know why this happens sometimes, but I'm seriously glad it does. Sometimes I'm able to be more consistent than ever. When it's something I really care about, I can actually do what I want to do and meet a goal such as this. Doing this every single day was exactly what I have needed at this particular time in my life. It has been a fun, motivating, educational and therapeutic experience. I've processed a lot of junk, and got a lot of less-than-cool memories out in the open. And I feel that I've made at least a small stamp on the Internets. That maybe someone might be able to land on this site and come to know about the inattentive subtype of ADHD a little bit better.

I got a message from a friend the other day that made this whole enterprise feel very worth it. He gave me permission to share. He said:

Dude. I thought I had my particular brand of crazy pretty well figured out. Guys who have been in and out of therapy since 3rd grade tend to know their diagnoses backward and forward. After reading your blog, though, I am kinda shocked to find that a major element of my struggle has flown under my radar for a good long while now!

As a kid, I was diagnosed with ADD (nobody ever mentioned an h or an i back then- at least not to me), but when the meds we tried had no effect, we all just sort of dropped that and focused on other issues (depression, anxiety, etc). Even as an adult, I had a doctor prescribe some adderall, just to see if it could help. As with ALL my forays into psycho-pharmaceuticals, it had no effect (my chemistry just WILL NOT respond to drugs. kinda sucks.).

Anyhoo, I love your blog a) because it's well written, and b) because it has helped me understand how huge a piece of my psychological puzzle that little sub-type really is! Holy crap! You're telling my stories!

I just wanted you to know that I dig what you're doing, and that at least one guy now has a better understanding of what's going on inside because of it. You rock.
I can't tell you how cool it is to know that talking about this stuff, even though it's been kind of embarrassing at times, has made a difference for somebody. It gives me the motivation to plow forward, and at least take on another bite-sized goal. (April 7th, people. I can do this, right?)

And really, I feel like I do have a lot more work to do. I have more to say about a lot of things pertaining to this issue. I have another Diagnosis post I want to write, to tidy up that important step. I have visions of many things--book reviews, resources, ideas for different populations--lots of stuff. And having made it this far (doing the type of thing that so often would have ended in dismal failure long ago) makes me believe that I can make this thing what I know it can become.

And that's really exciting.

Happy Sunday everyone.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Second-to-last day

And this is the cheapest post ever.

Inattentive, okay?

'Nuff said.

Friday, March 5, 2010

ADHD Anecdote--A Father's Influence

Father and Son Playing Together

I don't know much about my Grandpa Weed. The little I do know screams to me that he had the inattentive subtype of ADHD at a time where diagnosis was literally impossible. I believe his is a classic story of what ADHD-I must have resulted in in prior generations.

Harold Weed, my great-grandpa, was a Swede. He was very tall and very obdurate. He had various children. The only ones I know about are Wendell, my grandpa, and Gordon, his older brother. The reason I know about Gordon is because while Gordon was everything that Harold seemed to want in a son--athletic, a good hunter, responsible, hard working--my grandpa, apparently, was not. My grandpa wasn't focused, didn't seem to care about competition. He wasn't as organized--wasn't as "with it." He was a "lazy ass" who would never amount to anything. That was the message he got from his father his whole childhood.

Sound familiar?

By the time my grandpa married my grandma, it seems he'd internalized much of the harsh criticism he so often heard in his childhood. He appeared to feel helpless to the disorder--unable to change things for himself. He had started drinking to mitigate depressive symptoms. He couldn't keep a job. He appeared to be totally irresponsible--unable to keep it together long enough to provide for his family. Finally, he began to get physically violent in the home, and my grandma took my dad, who was about three, and left him.

Not long thereafter, my dad's last memory of him was this: Wendell called the house saying he'd be there to pick my dad up at 12:00 to go to a movie. My dad was thrilled--he loved movies, and he loved his dad. He got ready, sat in the living room and waited. He waited and waited. And his dad never came. Never came again.

My dad didn't see him for the next 15 years.

After my Dad got home from serving his LDS mission in Texas, he and Wendell reconnected. His dad apologized for not being there--for not being a father to him. Wendell invited my dad to go for a visit. My dad was selling books at the time prepping for school, and he took the opportunity to go visit his father. They reunited, my dad met his step brothers whom he'd never known. My dad says they actually had a really good time, and that it was wonderful to get to connect with his father, at least on some level.

One of the things my dad has always mentioned about that trip was his shock at a phone call Wendell received. The two of them were sitting there talking when the phone rang. Wendell picked up the phone and said, "Hey dad." Then, through the phone, my dad heard: "Why don't you get off your lazy ass and do something productive for once in your damn life, you good for nothing..." It was Harold, calling to chastise Wendell, even after all those years. My dad says he was stunned, but that it suddenly became at least somewhat clear why things had happened with his father as they had.

Looking at this story from the lens of ADHD-I, and knowing its genetic prevalence, I kind of ache for Wendell. It's like he's a snapshot of what I might have become if my own dad had been more ruthless.

Personal accountability is very important. My Grandpa Weed made a lot of poor decisions that have had a negative ripple effect on my entire family, and which have affected me in very specific and unfortunate ways. I think he could have made better choices. But, at the same time, knowing the source of his own self-loathing as intimately as I do, I also have a great deal of sympathy for the man--born in a time where symptoms of the inattentive subtype of ADHD were regarded as absolutely nothing other than downright slothfulness. He was unable to unshackle himself from the fiercely negative feedback from his own father--and the unfair comparisons to his "perfect" brother--until he was virtually unable to believe he could ever be or do anything of value.

Not long after this meeting, my dad got word that his father had died of a heart attack. Wendell was 47 years old.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

My Last Week

Well, it's the last week of the term for grad school. After this, final case presentation, a small research class, and I peace out.

But this week? This week is gonna be rough. Papers, presentations, you know. The works.

Man I've been cutting it close with these things. (These posts, I mean.) Not sure what to say about it. Maybe I'm getting to a point where daily posting is actually counterproductive, and I should re-evaluate on March 7th? Maybe I'm just going through a dry spell?

Not sure. Not going to stress myself out about this. But I am going to eat some Haagen Dazs.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

ADHD Anecdote--Math Homework

There's a home video in our family archives that makes me smile (a little sadly) because it represents so much of my childhood.

My dad has a video-camera that he's brought home from work. He's panning around the living room, talking to the kids (there were five of us in all, but at this point there were probably only four). He talks for a minute to the younger kids. Then he pans over to the kitchen table. And sitting there, my brother Chris (who also has ADHD-I) and I look up at smile at the camera. I am about eight, and Chris is about six.
Thinkstock Single Image Set

"What are you guys doing?" he asks cheerfully.

"Homework," we reply. "Math," one of us says.

"And what number are you on now?" Dad asks.

Chris holds up his paper, "number.... eight." He smiles.

"And how long have you guys been at it?"

We both look at each other sheepishly and laugh. Dad reveals that it's been about three hours. That's right. We've been sitting at that table, working on one page math worksheets for three hours.

This wasn't a one-time occurrence. This happened every single day one of us had math homework. We would sit, and try to focus, and the hours would pass and pass and we couldn't.

Why were "too lazy" to finish. Why couldn't we just buckle down and do it? Why couldn't we understand that once we just finished, we could go play Nintendo, or do any number of other things? Why were we so obstinate and unfocused, choosing to avoid the work than actually do it (even though we were sitting at the kitchen table the whole time, not doing anything else)?

I'm sure my parents asked themselves these questions a lot, and were baffled by us. And that's understandable. It's unfortunate that there wasn't more information about this in the 80's. We were probably very, very frustrating to watch.

Yet, watch it we all did, year after year after year.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

5 days

Presenting today at the community college ended up going great. Makes me miss teaching. And I did pretty well getting the thing put together, which was great.

Five days left until I hit my one month mark. Perhaps I can do more than a throwaway post tomorrow? Methinks, yes. But, overall, I'm pretty pleased with what I've done for myself here in a month. It's been great to get my thoughts out--get things solidified. This thing has provided direction for me--an anchor in an otherwise chaotic world of inattentive blunders. It's been awesome so far, and I'm excited to plow forward.

Coming attractions:

1. An ADHD Anecdote tomorrow.
2. Maybe a book review this week?
3. An attempt at a new color scheme?
4. Gotta say, none of these save for #1 are definite.
5. Perhaps that means I should read this again?
6. Have a very nice night.

Monday, March 1, 2010


Remember when I talked about how I was going to teach some community college psychology classes all about marriage and family therapy for a friend of mine, and how I wouldn't be able to work on it thoroughly until I got a surge of adrenaline based on fear of looking like a fool?

Well, I teach tomorrow. And the fear, thank goodness, has finally hit.

Have a good evening. I'll be preparing a Powerpoint during mine.