Sports Illustrated Swimsuits and ADHD.

What does it feel like to have ADHD/ADD? 
what-does-it-feel-like-to-have-adhd
I dunno, what does it feel like to have a single, linear thought for 20 minutes? Do all your Thought People stand in line, hands to themselves, content to wait their turn? Doesn’t that sort of focus sort of feel like you aren’t even noticing everything walk right past you?
I mean, “stop to smell the roses” doesn’t apply to all y’all punctual types, right? Planning ahead by adding extra time in case you encounter unexpected roses sort of negates the concept, yeah?
If I try to describe it, visually? My Thought People hang out in groups of unlike things. They are fast-moving, collision-causing, slower-pace-shoving Thought People. Each of them is angrily intent on Some Thing– Laundry, Kitchen, Writing, Internet, World Peace, What’s that Smell? They are not polite.
 
No amount of medication, meditation, or healthy diet and exercise will ever make my Thought People the stand-in-line-patiently type. But I do use medication, meditation, and a sorta healthy diet to corral them long enough to write their story. Which it how I measure my own success.
If the visual is people running, jumping, falling all over each other, it feels only fair that I give you the text too. Please note: Thought People have a particular affinity for run-on and sentence fragments, they care nothing for your grammar rules.

I started to type a facebook status, but it was getting long, so BLOG POST, shit, those broken category links, should I fix them– NO. But I should make a picture; I’m sure I’ve taken a picture with a group of people– wait, open source clip art!
Two hours later.

After all of this time, I should have skipped the To Do list that was preventing me from writing about how pissed off I am at Sports Illustrated, which I now get to look at all the time thanks to Joel cashing in airline miles for a subscription. So frustrating to read the editor’s little moment of “beauty in every shape”– why am I suddenly I’m getting facebook notifications right there at the bottom of my screen? Replies to my comments– I should check those– NO. That lizard keeps scratching her glass, but when I get her out she just scratches to go back in, but now the dog has to go out, and I’ve snoozed my phone’s lunch alarm so many times that it started overlapping into the afternoon brain break alarm–also snoozed. I need to shower, and did I get a present for that party tomorrow, and dammit why are there only three black women in the Swimsuit Edition, and why is the SI editor so proud of having a full-sized model on the cover, only to airbrush the shit out of the cellulite on that same model’s thighs, and why do the sports announcers call the white basketball players great leaders on the court, only to crow about how much they love the aggression of the black players, and why did SI put the darkest of their 3 black women on the African cost surrounded by black men in tribal robes, and WHY IS SHE THE ONLY ONE POSING WITH A GIANT SNAKE?

There. I feel better now. 

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