Is there anyone else who can relate to this description?

[billd]

Yeah, I do that a lot.

I passed my high school class “survey of American literature without reading a single book cover to cover. I skimmed, read the first bit, and a few pieces here and there, figured out the author’s points, etc. and passed the test about the book each time.

I also tend to work backwards – going to the end even of technical books or articales, or instruction manuals. One I see the pic or the conclusion, I know how they got there.

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[Pallist]

Bild: Your stories remind me of my “happy” years as a teen, though the angry one was mostly my mother. Ah, good times…

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[Anonymous]

OK, if ever I doubted I was among my people here, this pretty much confirms it.

My mother also called me the “absent minded professor.”

I used to be regularly sought as a trivia teammate. “Ask Bill, he’ll know.” (yes, billd, my name is also “Bill.” )

My friends likened listening to one of my stories to riding a roller coaster. They would even throw up their hands and then pretend to lean into curves screaming as I went off on tangents.

When reading it’s not unusual to skip down to something that catches my eye then backtrack to fill in the gaps when the context suddenly doesn’t make sense.

I’m fond of saying I have a hole in my head the size of one thing. If I go to the store to get ten things I’ll forget one of them. If I go for two things, I’ll still forget one. I often know I’m missing something, but can’t for the life of me call it up. Until I’m almost home, of course.

Years ago I adopted a keychain that clips onto my belt loop, as well as the habit of checking for it. I leave my keys and wallet with the previous day’s pants until I change. This acutally works for me, but without this ritual and snap loop I would lose these as often as I lose everything else.

My mom carried me past normal term, and used to joke that I was born two weeks late and have been at 15 minutes late everywhere I’ve gone since.

I often forget what I’m looking for, and find myself at the fridge with the door open.

Unfinished projects, scars on my arms from bumping into things I walk past, coworkers asking, “Is there something wrong with you?

Parking lot panic from looking for the car I left at home, angry friends and relatives who decide I “just don’t care,” when I miss a detail, meeting, appointment, frozen turkey, etc.

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[billd]

Ina Haze – love that handle! LOL.

Yeah, I so relate………..

My youngest son used to tell never-ending stories – 45 minutes long, started on one topic and covered 12 before he was done………

I guess I’m the same way I find out.

Scars from burns, cuts, gouges, table saw issues (it won), broken knee cap, collar bone, toes broken over and over, I’m shocked I’m alive.

I hear the same things from friends (the 2 I still have) and co-workers all the time – they kid me about ignoring them or preferring not to admit that I know them, that sort of thing.

I had a key ring that clipped to my belt when I needed keys for work to get me into networking closets, etc.

Don’t mean to laugh – but you are describing spending a day with me and observing…….. now what was I in here for – and it wasn’t even the fridge I intended to go to.

I do the exact same thing with my pants. I gave up putting stuff on my dresser long ago – it would still be there when I went to work. My wife doesn’t like it – but if she wants to do laundry, I get pants out for the next day and trasnfer stuff into them immediately.

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[Anonymous]

I was the last porson anyone would have picked as a partner for the bard game trivial pursuit. While growing up, almost every sat night we would go over my my cousin’s house. Are family’s where close. My big sister & I would play with are cousin’s & mom & dad would play bard games like scrabble, trivial pursuit & yachts. I hatted them all. (the games). But the worst game was boggle! I didn’t have a chase.

As a matter of fact, the way I can wright on this forum is by using my iPhone. The spellchecker is pretty good. But it’s still torture. I stated this reply at 6:10am & it’s now 7:30am

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[Anonymous]

True story.. 20+ years ago, I drove to school and took the bus home. I still hear about it today.

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[Tiddler]

LOL I drove to the park and walked home – the wrong way – recently! Glad to hear I’m not alone. Had to leave the car there overnight because my asthma was playing up.

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[Anonymous]

About a month ago…

Lugged all my post-work stuff down the street freezing my tush off to catch the bus home and realized

I had brought the car

after I walked by it….

Then it hit me………….

‘If I brought the car…where are the keys???????????’

arrgghhhh…..

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[quizzical]

The most frustrating memory lapses for me are the ones that happen fractions of seconds later, like the other day when I was standing at the sink wondering if I’d just taken one, or both, of my medicines. Naturally the one I was wondering about was the ADD med.

Based on how I felt the rest of the day I guess I had taken it, but it was scary that I couldn’t remember the moment. Went out that very day and bought one of those old-people day-of-the-week pillboxes. Sigh. I’m consoling myself with the fact that it’s a snazzy bright green, which makes it more stylish than most.

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[kc5jck]

In the 15 seconds it takes me to get from the door to the car, I often can’t remember if I locked the front door to our business.

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[billd]

Man these posts from the last couple of days, SO familiar!!!!!

Although this did NOT happen to me, it happened to my very NON-ADHD father.

My mother had a 1960 Plymouth Valiant (this was in about 1970) and my father had a 1964 Rambler.

Mom had her keys, Dad had his.

Dad was making a trip to town, and as often happened, asked if I wanted to go along. YEAH, love to. So we hop into Mom’s car, get to town, do our shopping, and Dad digs into his pocket and pulls out keys. He’s looking for his car as he had his keys in his hands. We looked and looked and where we thought he’d parked HIS car, there was Mom’s car.

Total confusion, what the heck happened – this means Dad has lost the keys to Mom’s car as all he can find are his keys to his car.

We thought and talked it out, pieced things together (remember, I’m ADHD, and poor memory, I’d frankly not recall which car we’d taken)

Finally we figured it out, and were correct. We got into Mom’s car, he used his Rambler keys in her ignition switch, and it started……… and we drove home. He was so used to taking his car he instinctively grabbed his car keys and we hopped into Mom’s car instead for whatever reason… and driven her car to town with his keys.

We thought we were going crazy for a while there……..

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[Author]

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