larnin disabilatee, yor on notis!

I have decided to subpoena adhd with a cease-and-desist warning. In other words,

I'm through.

Done.

Finis(h).

O.v.e.r. it.

Got that, adhd? Your days, or possibly hours, are numbered. (Maybe this would be a good time to sit down and figure out the finer details of counting.)

*****

My therapist has given me an assignment; anytime someone compliments me, I am expected to write it down, long-hand, using a writing implement *other* than something with an electric cord attached to its keys, iow, yes, a pen or pencil-ish item, and paper. Or, you know, whatever's handy. Like a receipt. Those are generally the most handy. I *have* notebooks and scads of paper in this house, I just don't necessarily know how to locate them. But the important thing is to trick my brain into thinking I'm worthy. And stop being so focussed on the negativo. Which means I'm allowed to go back through all the comments I've ever received on this blog and pull the nicer stuff that you've said to me (even if they were all a heap of lies, real purty ones, but lies, nonetheless), and write it down, with a pencily thingy, on the back of ~~a bar tab~~ a receipt for milk and cereal and local, organic produce. Also, what Caleb says to me that's complimenty. And what Jack says to me, like when he tells me I'm nice, and when he says I'm pretty pretty. Etc.

Now if I can just remember how to fucking write.