I Thought You Would Be Happy For Me

It has recently come to my attention that I suffer from extreme A.D.D. I know people throw this diagnosis around casually, but they really have no idea what they are talking about. Folks, you do not know you have A.D.D. until you have a formal confirmation like I do. Lately, I have been given these assignments at my "firm" where I am asked to do "calculations." As a side note, I am sort of a debt collector. At first this seemed rather glamorous working on "big bank" accounts, but now I realize that collecting debt from financial advisors is in not any different than being the repo man. In fact, it is worse.

Regardless, after making a series of demands to these poor individuals to cough up some change, the junior partner came into my office and asked me to recite the order of the months. When I excelled at this task, he asked then why did I think in a letter I was about to circulate June came after August? Then he asked me to repeat what he had just asked me to make sure I was paying attention. Well, I had no logical explanation until he said the following: "You have severe A.D.D. and I need you to focus. This task is not hard, filling in numbers amongst a form letter. You should be embarrassed." Well, yes I was kind of embarrassed. Not embarrassed as I should be, as now I am disclosing this information to the Internet, but at the time, I most certainly was and had to quickly call d/shit to meet me for drinks at four o’clock in the afternoon.

When I spoke about this with my therapist she did not bat an eyelash. I was most certainly expecting her to disagree with him, but she merely said "Well, are you surprised?" When I explained that I have suspected this much, but failed to disclose that I have been taking "study enhancing drugs" without a formal prescription just to hail a cab, she asked me "Have you ever considered time released Aderoll or Ritalin?"

JUST BRILLIANT. Of course I have been considering the merits of these drugs for the longest time, but have had to go about the strangest methods of obtaining them, i.e. calling Dr. Y (M&M's psychiatrist and drug dealer) to give me some goodies right around exam time. To think that next week I am about to walk into a psychiatrist's office and check off a list and obtain said meds on a regular basis which will last up to eight hours to help me be a better debt collector is just what the doctor ordered, literally.

Of course I had to tell my gay husband the good news and he could not have been more ecstatic and thanked me for taking one for the team. When I told E the jolly news, she asked "if I was okay?" Got to love E, she is so good to me. For the record, E, I am fine and better than I have ever been in my entire life.