Oh, there are plenty of things to do. Some things need to be
done. Some things demand to be done. The ones that demand to be done get done—grudgingly.
If something should happen to get
done the feeling of accomplishment is there. And the reward for doing something is
to ignore at least three other things that need to be done. “What? I did that
thing over there! It’s playtime!”
For people like me, getting on task, staying on task, and
completing a task is a lot like swimming in lard. Imagine your ordinary self.
You are on one side of a pool and it has become a responsibility of yours to
swim to the other side of the pool. The nature of the responsibility is such
that you cannot walk around the pool. You must get into the water and swim to
the other side. So you shrug. You dip your toe into the water to test the
temperature. You make one last check of Facebook to see if anyone has commented
on the kitten picture you posted. Then you resign yourself to the task. You get
in the water and swim across the pool. It is work, but you do it. Then you pull
yourself up out of the water, find a towel, and dry yourself off. Mission
accomplished!
People like me are different. We will look out the window, check
all of our friend’s activity on Facebook, check the news, get something to eat,
take a nap, and perhaps the pool will
dry up before we have to cross it. Why? Because to us that pool is filled with
lard! Not really, but it seems that way to us. Are we lazy?
Not quite. Most of us are really busy with other stuff—stuff
that we obsess about. We might be dreaming about crossing the lard-filled pool
in the most amazing way possible. We might be hoping that a jet ski appears so
we can ride across the pool in style. We might be designing a better pool in
our minds. We might be thinking about how crossing the pool will impact the environment,
or the implications the crossing will have on the world economy. We might be
trying to figure out how to cross the pool perfectly.
Sometimes, especially if we have someone in our lives whose
respect we want to maintain, we might get up to the pools edge, test the water,
and slide in. Crossing the whole pool is a problem though. We might notice the
lights hanging from the ceiling. We might pause and wonder if we should go back
to the departure side and have one more bagel, or our significant others might
discover us in the middle of the pool wearing a funny hat and blowing bubbles. Oops!
Every once in a while we manage to get across the pool
without too much trouble. When we get out of the pool that little voice in our
heads says, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” To which we respond, “Fuck you!
That was miserable!” Then once we have wiped all of the lard off of our bodies
we might think, “That wasn’t so bad. I wish I had done it sooner. Where did the
time go?”
What can turn a swimming pool of water into a swimming pool
filled with lard? A direct order! This is especially true if we know that the
swimming pool has to be crossed and you cannot appreciate that your water is
our lard. Why lard? Once you begin a task your brain releases dopamine to make
the task more palatable. You have a little procrastination hump to jump over,
but you accomplish the leap often enough to become head cheerleader, or
assistant manager of sporting goods. The procrastination hump to us is more
like the Berlin Wall. If we manage to get over it, there will be no dopamine
fix to keep our eyes on the prize, and there may even be machine guns blazing
away because our previous attempts have been noted by the security forces. As a
result, when we do manage to get across the pool, we want a goddamned parade in
our honor!
And yet… sometimes we seem to be able to nail certain
swimming pools. Why is that? Because of a crisis, for one. A crisis will
trigger adrenalin, which is a much bigger buzz than your little bit of
dopamine. If there is a crisis involved, my adrenalin will kick your dopamine’s
ass every day of the week. For another, we might actually like a particular
pool. It might be our obsession pool.
That is the one we focus on because it seems to tolerate us. It soothes us. We
usually like one, or two, pools. Those pools aren’t filled with water, they
contain Astroglide or mint chocolate chip ice cream which we can gobble our way
across.
So what’s the plan? Pffft! There is no plan! We do not plan!
We are opportunity snatchers. Planning is for people who have foresight and can
make milestone charts and set goals. We lay in wait and hope to seize something
good that comes our way. We just hope that the shiny, new opportunity doesn’t
turn out to be another swimming pool filled with lard.
Waiting for the right bus to come along is a lonely pursuit. Very, very lonely.
It looks passive… very passive. And it is seasoned with plenty of
self-criticism. So when you figure out that someone you know has Adult ADD,
rest assured that their internal voice has already spoken the words of
criticism you are about to share.
And now I take a nap!
