The Road to Hell is Paved With…


I think the road to hell (in my house anyway)  is paved with mail.  Seriously.  In a desperate search for the birth certificates of my three offspring, I realized something.  I admit it.  I am a hoarder of all things paper.  I think I have every birthday card I have ever received.  Let me break that down for you.  I am 38.  If you don’t spend more than a moment to think about that you might assume I am a dork with only like 38 birthday cards.  Let me assure you, I am popular.  I have about a zillion.  More like hundreds.  Anywho, I also have three children who are 14, 12 and 4 years old so I keep all of their cards too, and all of the cards I have received for other stuff, like my wedding and all of my baby showers.  Dude.  That’s 38 Christmases, 38 Valentine’s Days, 38 years of “just because we are friends” and not to mention ‘Thank you’ or “Wow last night was awesome!’ (What can I say??)  That’s a lot of cards.  I need to make some sort of mural out of these cards so that all of these years of Hallmark hoarding isn’t in vain.  It doesn’t stop there.  I also have every paystub from every job I have ever had.   And seemingly every bank statement, insurance statement, electric, cable, phone…etc. bill I have ever paid in my adult life.  I also hang on to every scrap of paper my children have ever scribbled upon.  HELP!!!  Our finished basement looks like a mail bomb exploded down here.  And what am I doing?  Blogging it out.  Not cleaning it up.  It’s overwhelming.  (and it’s right behind me…I think it can hear me click-click-clicking on this keyboard and it is lying in wait…)In my frantic search for these birth certificates (that lasted until 2:00 AM) I did thin the collection by throwing away a large box of stuff, but I have barely touched the tip.  (Just the tip, just to see how it feels.)

 

And…I am disorganized to boot.  If you saw my cube at work you would be impressed.  It is very well-organized and every paper I touch is filed away neatly into it’s labeled place.  But at home, I throw caution to the wind and make piles of stuff anywhere I can find a flat surface.  And what does James do?  He follows behind me and tucks my well-constructed piles into rubbbermaid totes int the garage or shoeboxes in the hall closet.  Never to be seen or heard of again…until I need vital documents.  Then he abandons me at 10:00 PM and goes to bed, leaving me in the volcanic eruption of memorabilia and mail in our makeshift office downstairs.  Today when I read my friend Karri’s blog, she said her basement flooded and I nearly pooped my pants thinking that if that happens to me today, all of my years of hoarding would end…and I might actually be OK with it.  But then I realized it would be an even bigger mess for me to clean up.  Curse you ADD and inherent laze!  Curse you to hell!!!

 

I am admitting my problem.  That’s the first step.  My husband has a paper hoarding problem as well.  He doesn’t hang on to sentimental things, but he hangs on to magazines and never files paperwork.  Sorry to out you on my blog babe, but let’s face it.  We are a fire hazard in need of a filing system intervention.  I am kind of outing us in hopes that the embarrassment this will bring to us will force us to get our act together and utilize a filing system up in this place.  *sigh* I have to go now.  I have to clean this mess.  I should post a pic of it, the before and after…but I am ashamed.  And since I am being truthful, I am probably not really going to clean it up.

Learn from me.  Throw out your old stuff.  Don’t be a hoarder.

 

Love, peace, chicken grease…

Padinkydink



Meds.


I got a tetanus/pertussis shot in the arm today. It hurts like a mother bitcher. I guess going on a field trip with 60 fourth graders to Missouri’s First Capitol wasn’t exciting enough, so I needed to go have a nurse jab a needle into my arm bone deep. Actually, I needed to go to the doctor for a checkup because I take a medication that requires them to see me in person every 6 months or so…no it’s not valtrex or a psychotropic. I have ADHD. I do still find it to be embarrassing to talk about it, but it is what it is and I am working it out.

I discovered I had ADHD after I discovered my son had it. I have watched my son struggle through schoolwork and homework for years. Watching him struggle has brought back my own horrible childhood memories of sitting at the dining room table after school trying to focus on my OWN schoolwork when I was a kid. I vividly remember wishing I had a white hot poker to stick through my skull because it seemed to me THAT would feel better than sitting still trying to focus on doing long division. When I was in 4th grade, I didn’t do my homework, and back in 1984 it was legal for my school principal to administer corporal punishment for that offense. Crazy huh? I was all of 45 pounds then, the size of your average kindergartner, unable to focus on completing assignments, and my school principal was authorized to hit me on the ass with a wooden paddle for it. WHAT A LOAD OF SHIT!!! Talk about embarrassment. I was the only girl I knew who ever got swats. I was a gifted child, but everyone told me I was lazy and never “lived up to my potential.” All along I could have been doing so much more…

Thankfully, nowadays they harness all the energy of cocaine and put it into a small capsule and it virtually cures ADHD. Funny thing is; when you have ADHD, you don’t react the same to ‘speed’ as you do if you are “normal.” For instance, if you don’t have ADHD and you take one of my pills, you will be balls to the wall RAILING like a crack head all day. But this medicine actually lowers my heart rate. Before I started taking this medicine I could best be described at work as a “clock watcher.” Now that I take the daily medicine I get pissed off when 5:00 rolls around because I want to stay at my desk and get shit done. A lot of adults suffer from ADHD and go untreated, but I strongly urge everyone I know who feels like they may have it to go online to any search engine and type in “I think I have ADHD” and take any quiz you come across. Who knows? Maybe you can save yourself from constant frustration like I have.

I have wanted to be a writer my entire life. Now that I have meds for ADHD, I am finally starting to write. I am not necessarily saying I want to be an inspiration to anyone, but if I am able to help anyone at all, then that person will owe me BIG TIME and I can hold that over their head forever and ever. And that is how I roll.

PS I started this blog to talk about how much of a vajayjay I am because my arm is hurting very badly, but I ended up on a completely separate issue. What more proof do you need that I have ADHD and am completely out of meds?