The Coffee
My oldest was recently diagnosed with ADD. It wasn't shocking news, as we've realized all along that he struggles with distractibility. Only recently, have I wondered if he didn't inherit it from his mother. The other day was a prime example of forgetfulness on my part. All I can do is laugh.
It was time to start getting myself and the boys ready to get out the door. First, I thought, I'll make a pot of coffee. I dumped the grounds from yesterday, and rinsed out the filter. I filled the water reservoir. The phone rang and I talked to my brother for a good while. As we talked I tried to continue the process. Realized the grinder part needed cleaning, and then poured the coffee beans... into the filter. Well that was wrong, I laughed. I moved them to their correct place. After getting a child dressed, I went to fill my cup, only to realize I never finished filling the grinder with beans. Beginning to be exasperated with myself, I figured at least I'd have it ready before I went to get . Somehow, though I found myself completely dressed, made up, and hair done and still not a sip of caffeinated loveliness had passed my lips. Yet, when I went to remedy that travesty, I found that I had not.pushed.the.button. It went on with pouring, getting distracted, adding splenda, running to do something really quickly, ending in me not getting one drink of that coffee until we were in the car on the way to school. This is so typical of my mornings I'm embarrassed to admit it.
Why is it so difficult to accomplish such a simple task?
It's not just coffee, though. My days are filled with trying to accomplish one job, while meanwhile in my head is swirling a laundry list of things to do. I typically flit from thing to thing in erratic fashion. These dishes need done. Oh, look! A dirty dishcloth, this needs to go to the laundry room. Looks like the dryer is done. Better fold these clothes and get the next load going. If the load manages to get folded start to finish, it will then need to be put away. On the way to the closet it will be apparent that the bedroom floor is cluttered with stuff and needs to be picked up. At that point I realize I've gotten off track, but which job was it that I started with and should finish? It's an hour later and nothing is accomplished.
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