Just Can't Wait

Rehab Facilitator

It ain’t easy being ADD. And ADD isn’t just for kids anymore. For example, the other morning while writing up a recipe I struggled and struggled trying to get this Word program to write the fraction 1/3.  It will do ¼ and it will do ½.  But 1/3? Not in a million.

When I write I get into a groove and have a hard time being interrupted. Nonetheless, when Tam offered to have a look at the problem I had had enough and said “yes.” Now my wife is a very meticulous and systematic individual. She is never ADD. She will look at a problem, study it, attempt a solution, bring in references—I mean, she’s the type who actually reads an owners manual for crissakes. Anyway, being completely flummoxed, I was happy to give her a shot at it. A shot, not five minutes. After about three I was crawling out of my skin. “Just forget it. I don’t need it. Come on, give it back.” I whined like an annoying little brother.

I think it must be hard to live with someone like me, someone who just can’t wait. A person who wants to fly the plane before he’s taken a lesson. A guy whose owner’s manuals are never opened during the life of the vehicle.

I’m happy to report this never happens in surgery. There, I make a conscious and concerted effort to stay steady, mindful, and calm. I check my haste at the door. But toys or games or this computer?  For two-finger tapping away on this teensy little window box of a keyboard? I can't sit still.

I’m thinking voice recognition may be in order. Or maybe just hold the coffee until I’m done on the computer. Then again, there's always rehab: My Royal desktop sits just an arm's length away. That'll learn me some patience.