How to Laugh at Yourself

My headphones delivered the loud BING of an incoming text message right about the same time I began to suspect I was lost.

I carefully shifted my vibrams to my left hand, so as not to dump out the shells I had collected, and…

What? Wet barefoot running shoes don’t make for happy feet, but it doesn’t mean they can’t perform an admirable impression of a happy bucket.

read the incoming message from my husband: “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, got distracted by some shells at the tidal pool. Be back shortly.”

I was peripherally aware that the tidal pool was less than a half mile from our hotel, having mapped out my intended running route earlier in the day.

Twenty minutes later my post-partum bladder upgraded its urgency alert from mild to severe prompting me to send another text.

“Can you go out on the balcony and look for me?”

Several minutes of -“can you see me now”- and he determined that I had missed both our hotel and its loud hip-hop-party-hosting neighbor.

By about a mile.

One would assume that walking from beach to hotel, then hotel to beach, more than twice a day for 3 days would have imprinted the building on my brain.


Or maybe I noticed the bright red boat that had spent the day anchored 200 yards off-shore directly across from our room.


All I could do (continue to do) is laugh at myself. I can even applaud my response as a positive character trait after reading the findings from a small research study that suggests that “laughing at oneself may be the foundation for a good sense of humor”.

Note: “How to Laugh at Yourself” is going to part of a regular series where I share my embarrassing ADHD moments and how they taught me not to take my mistakes (or myself) too seriously. I hope y’all enjoy them!

7 thoughts on “How to Laugh at Yourself

  1. Pingback: I Took a Break from my ADHD | Scattermom

  2. Pingback: Poise, Paws, and Pause « Chaos is Normal

  3. The ocean and the sand relocate themselves 24 hours a day. You were just going with the flow. Mother Nature pulled you into her hyperfocused saltwater world! Sounds like a wonderful break from the treadmill; the actual treadmill *and* the metaphorical one.

    As a bonus, it only took a bladder alert and a phone call to bring you back to reality. That’s a lot cheaper and less politically complicated than the tax dollars that have been spent to try and relocate the ocean and the sand.

  4. Great new series! I don’t have ADHD but do this frequently. I swear If I don’t take a pic of my car I have to walk around the garage many times before finding it! Visiting from content brew!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.