ADD A WTF MOMENT
You go through life assuming your default setting is, well, normal. You figure being grumpy, scatter-brained, and one impulsive decision away from disaster is just... "who you are." You think, "I'm 35, overweight, and I can't find my keys, but hey, at least I’m authentic!" Then, one night, the universe steps in and throws a lamp at your head.
For me, the thunderbolt of self-awareness arrived roughly 30 years ago, via an episode of Barbara Walters’ 20/20. I urge you, if you have access to the archives of confusing evening news television, look it up. It featured a guy my age, mid-thirties, who was essentially my personality twin:
Grumpy: Check.
Short-tempered: Double check.
Impulsive: My middle name.
Overweight: The universe gives you what you need.
Day Dreamer: Currently mapping out a fully organized pantry in my head.
Below-average student: Why study when you can daydream?
Unorganized: My filing system is called "The Pile."
The punchline? The guy was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (A.D.D.)—as an adult. I stared at the screen, jaw hanging, and screamed, “THAT’S ME! I’M NOT JUST A LUNATIC, I HAVE A REASON!”
Naturally, my family reacted by doing what they do best: confirming I was a lunatic and ignoring me.
I bring this up now, not for a pity party, but so you understand the underlying structural integrity (or lack thereof) of the mind that brought you here. The reason my life—and by extension, my living situation—escalated into a permanent state of What The Fiasco is rooted right here.
A.D.D. is slightly different from A.D.H.D. I don’t jump noticeably up and down (I’m too tired for that); I just have the same scattered hard drive. It’s not a "child's disease," it’s a lifelong feature. Some people manage it by self-medicating—you know them as the guys chugging energy drinks, chain-smoking, or turning to... less legal remedies to quiet the noise.
Others, like me for a long time, just pretend their chaos is a personality quirk. Billy Joel even wrote a soundtrack for it—that song about the "Angry Young Man" wasn't just catchy, it was autobiographical for half the population.
If it seems like I’m constantly changing the subject, interrupting myself mid-sentence, or just generally making you feel seasick with my jumpy focus, well, there's your answer! That's my A.D.D. hitting the send button before the thought is complete.
Donald Trump is a classic example! Hmm, did I say that?
I’d love to elaborate, but as you know, that would derail the entire theme of the blog. Maybe when I run out of new fiascos involving Sal’s mail and Davy’s stench, I’ll write the prequel about my life before the age of 60.
WHAT THE FIASCO!
Oh yeah by the way did I mention my name? I'm Alan!
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