I don't know if it is the ADHD or just that I'm an arsehole, but the world if full of people who know my name. But I don't know whom in the hell they are.
Person: Hi john
John: Hi............. you?
Just a sample of I conversation I have every day a hundred times. That's the trouble with a town of only 30 000.
Do I know them from the library? Church? Rugby? Kids School? Aren't you my brother?
You see there are two kinds of people in this world,
'me' and 'not me'.
mmmmmmmm sometimes I wonder when ADHD stops and Autism starts
ohhhhhhhhhhh look shiny thing
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
The rants and howls of a librarian, blessed by by Bacchus with the gift of ADHD.
About Me
- ADHD Librarian
- I am a librarian who is currently having a slight career deviation. Having spent my career in public and academic libraries I moved into a high school to repair a long neglected school library. That done (well, more or less) I got myself a dip ed & slipped sideways into the classroom, although I am still the librarian too.
Email Me
adhd dot librarian at gmail dot com
Links
Some Favourite Posts
copyleft
Want to use something I have said, reproduce, adapt or redistribute it? Then give me attribution and don't charge anyone for access.
ADHD or just ADHD curious?
What could be more important for you right now then reading my crazy rants?
Warning
As I see the world through ADHD coloured glasses, this blog contains dangerously high levels of Confabulation.
The stories I tell all have an element of truth to them, but then all of the best lies start with a grain of truth and then slowly build a large black pearl of deception around that grain.
Or, so I hear.
Indeed, due to the passage of time and the fact that I don't pay attention when people are talking (and therefore, in order to be fair, I also don't pay attention when I'm talking), even I can't remember which parts of the stories I tell are fact and which are fiction. Therefore, if you are reading this and think that you recognise yourself in one of the posts, please consider everything you read to be nothing more than my attempt to make others think I'm important, honest I don't really think you are a gormless twat, or at least no more than I generically think that anyone who isn't me is somehow slightly less important than a brain damaged gnu.
Posts on this blog are not researched, edited, nor indeed even thought out in advance. I write in stream of consciousness, partially because I love the beat generation 'vibe' man and partially because even if I write out a plan and then do a draft, I end up going somewhere else entirely by the time I'm half way through. Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit! And while you're digesting this share a thought for the poor distressed kiddies who have ever sat through one of my adlib Red Riding Hood inspired puppet shows at storytime or one of the mature aged students who has had to cope with my performance based introduction to library resources lectures complete with jokes, pratfalls and a big dance finale.
Warning
As I see the world through ADHD coloured glasses, this blog contains dangerously high levels of Confabulation.
The stories I tell all have an element of truth to them, but then all of the best lies start with a grain of truth and then slowly build a large black pearl of deception around that grain.
Or, so I hear.
Indeed, due to the passage of time and the fact that I don't pay attention when people are talking (and therefore, in order to be fair, I also don't pay attention when I'm talking), even I can't remember which parts of the stories I tell are fact and which are fiction. Therefore, if you are reading this and think that you recognise yourself in one of the posts, please consider everything you read to be nothing more than my attempt to make others think I'm important, honest I don't really think you are a gormless twat, or at least no more than I generically think that anyone who isn't me is somehow slightly less important than a brain damaged gnu.
Posts on this blog are not researched, edited, nor indeed even thought out in advance. I write in stream of consciousness, partially because I love the beat generation 'vibe' man and partially because even if I write out a plan and then do a draft, I end up going somewhere else entirely by the time I'm half way through. Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit! And while you're digesting this share a thought for the poor distressed kiddies who have ever sat through one of my adlib Red Riding Hood inspired puppet shows at storytime or one of the mature aged students who has had to cope with my performance based introduction to library resources lectures complete with jokes, pratfalls and a big dance finale.
Today's Unshelved