On ADHD, Distraction,
and wandering through airports
I’m on vacation in Connecticut. It’s fall, just before Halloween. The leaves are amazing. It’s the perfect time to visit an apple orchard or a graveyard.
I love graveyards. If books hold the collected history of important people, graveyard hold the history of just about everyone else.
It’s Friday. My best friend Bob is in Port Aransas on the gulf coast with the ashes of his recently deceased girlfriend Linda. Bob asked me to go with him, and I wanted to, but I had so many things to do, and then of course I didn’t. I have trouble leaving the house sometimes. To be fair, Bob didn’t tell me he was planning on scattering Linda’s ashes.
When I taught after school reading as part of a graduate program, I arrived one day to find a ADHD 3rd grade student huddled under my desk, red-eyed from crying. He clearly didn’t want to talk, so I sat down at a nearby table and organized my lesson. After a couple of minutes he stuck his head out from under my desk.Write here...
When I taught after school reading as part of a graduate program, I arrived one day to find a ADHD 3rd grade student huddled under my desk, red-eyed from crying. He clearly didn’t want to talk, so I sat down at a nearby table and organized my lesson. After a couple of minutes he stuck his head out from under my desk
I’m always late. Time is my mortal enemy, my nemesis. I tend to think of time as an elder god left over from a darker, crueler age, much like Crom from Conan the Barbarian.
You may or may not have heard of the Marshmallow Test, but the Marshmallow Test has heard of you. In case you don’t know what the Marshmallow test is, I’ll explain. In 1960, researchers gave kindergarten aged children a choice: eat one marshmallow now, or save that marshmallow and you can have another one later
This is my neighborhood. I live in Austin, just south of Oltorf, between Lamar and South First, on the west side of the train tracks. My neighborhood used to be called Low Theodore Heights which was kind of weird. What's a 'low height', and who the hell was Theodore?
My sister is my lifeline. She is gloriously, ridiculously neuro-typical. She is five foot ten and blond, which came in handy in her previous career as a Wagnerian soprano. Now she travels the world counseling corporations on promoting woman into leadership roles. She has her own Tedtalk, a head full of feminism and Sondheim lyrics, and she can drink most grown men under the table
