I sometimes wonder if I have ADHD. Not because I am physically hyperactive because trust me, I am not active -- at all. (That is actually a problem.) My brain, however, is never still. My family thinks I am crazy because I can be sitting there, minding my own business, thinking about whatever I am thinking about and I break into a conversation (usually with a question about whatever I was thinking about) and expect them to know what I am talking about. Can't they read my mind? What is wrong with them?
I was always a prolific daydreamer. When I was in junior high school I used to sit in our gorgeous school library during study hall and look down the street at the houses. The school was located in a historical district
and the houses were all mini-mansions (and some not so mini)
and I would make up stories in my head about the families that lived in each house. They were all lovely families with well-kept secrets and mysteries and lots and lots of money and gorgeous clothes - probably not so far from the truth, actually.
I don't do that anymore. Or, at least I didn't think I did.
We are taking a new route home from Bean's in the afternoon. It takes us through a neighborhood very much like the one we lived in the first 16 years of our marriage. Yesterday I found myself looking at the houses and making up stories about the people in them.
Hmmmm.......is this a sign of ADHD, impending senility or literary brilliance?
Yes, I think so!
