Wednesday, December 7, 2011

I looked like a drowned ADHD rat

The morning started with me unable to drag myself out of bed. Before I continue I just want to clarify that this is NOT a complaints post, but it will be a post about how the little things can really create a comic failure.

I was unable to drag myself out of bed. Even after I took my Concerta when the alarm went off. My body and mind were both exhausted...and the step-daughter was having the same problem.

What followed was a morning filled with mundane failures that resulted in me getting to work about 45 minutes late.

Animals running around refusing to be corralled...dropping things over and over and over...tripping...losing things...after just finding them...then the kids' mom showed up...then the water heater installer showed up...then I lost my keys again...then I dropped my lunch bag and everything fell out of it...then I run outside with my bags and realize it's raining...and I don't have an umbrella...then I'm wearing a wool suit that smells funny when it gets wet...then I'm walking three blocks in the rain to work with four bags of stuff because my stuff isn't organized this week and then I wonder why I bothered to even dry my hair this morning...then I dropped my lunch bag again getting out of the elevator...

And so it continues...I guess it's just that kind of day.

Solution-oriented thinking

Yesterday, I talked to our facilities manager at work about simply bringing my home laptop into work and working from different spots in the building to get away from the nasty lighting situation and distracting we agreed that would be a good plan and now I have my laptop with me and will probably kick that off at some point today (because in this northern hemi that I live in, it is 11AM and not incredibly bright outside).

This morning, the coworker who needs the light the most brought two lamps in and requested that two more be brought to our office.

Apparently even though we can't all agree on lighting, we CAN all agree to try to be proactive about addressing the situation. Sweet!

But I cannot tell a lie: I am mortified. I'm embarrassed. I don't like asking people to revolve around me and I don't even know what to say. My anxiety level is hovering right about mid-chest level.