Adult Attention Deficit Disorder.
Yeah. Check. Got it.
For years I struggled with the ups and down, confused by my apparent lack of concentration for some things and my days-long laser beam focus on others. Like most people I really believed that ADD was a lack of attention to anything and everything. I thought that I couldn't have ADD since I had moments where my concentration was so incredible that I blamed a lack of motivation for the times I couldn't or wouldn't concentrate. I fell for the most common misconception about ADD.
As an example, I remember when I directed Heidi Chronicles for a small theater in Berkeley. Not only did I direct the thing, I also did most of the costuming, all of the music, some of the lighting, built some of the set, and acted. All while maintaining a 40-hour a week job. It was even more hectic for The Sisters Rosensweig. When I directed that play, I also did all of the things I did above in addition to being the play's stage manager. I distinctly remember not sleeping for three days while I worked to get the set done, the music edited, and the painting and wallpapering done. I invited my then-manager who was a theater buff to come see it. His first reaction was one of disbelief. He had trouble equating the tardy, late with projects basket case he knew at work with the fanatic workaholic that produced the play he just saw. That's ADD's Jeckyl and Hyde.
There's a reason that I've had fifteen jobs in 12 years. I either had the foresight to get out while I still had a good reputation, was smart enough to take an assignment that only lasted as long as it took for me to get bored, or found something more bright and more shiny and more interesting. Right about now would have been the time for me to leave my current job, but a coworker sat me down and had a long and enlightening talk with me. He actually had me pegged as someone afflicted (blessed?) with ADD and made some suggestions about what methods I could employ to help me exploit the Jeckyl and wrangle the Hyde aspects of my ADD.
One of the things he suggested was I try David Allen's "getting things done" methodology.
Ha! Right. That's all I need, some self-help guru telling me how to "get things done."
I borrowed the book Getting Things Done and thought that it was pretty boring. How was this going to help? Fortunately I didn't chuck GTD out of my life just yet. I figured I'd at least try to listen to the mp3s that were given to me.
What a difference that made. It was one thing to read the boring dry book and quite another to listen to David Allen's enthusiasm through my iPod.
In a nutshell, GTD has shown me how to "dump my brain" onto paper and onto my computer so that I can finally think. I hate analogies because they're weak, but think of your brain as RAM. If your psychic RAM is filled running endless loops of everything that vies for your attention, you might just have enough processing power left to brush your teeth in the morning. That was me until I started using GTD and writing things down.
One of the most startling things I learned was that your brain makes no distinction between promises made externally to others and those made internally to yourself. If you flake on yourself, it's as bad as someone breaking a promise to you. Crazy, but true.
Go ahead and check out what others have been saying on the web about GTD.
I now carry a small notepad everywhere and with GTD it's changed how I look at and process information. It goes beyond task lists and action items.
Works for me.
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