What a 'Quick Trip' to the Store With ADHD Is Like
I went to Walmart to buy one shirt — no basket needed, right?And I even knew I had to pick up my sandwich order soon at 12 p.m., so I had “boundaries” to follow.
• What is ADHD?
But … first, I browse the patio furniture, because I’ve been meaning to buy some for four years … oh look, seeds! I wonder if they have wildflower seeds? Yes, I already have two unused bags at home, but what if I need more? Then the water/pool toy display, oh good, I needed (?) a new slip and slide (the other one was destroyed when I forgot to put it away after a few weeks last summer), but which one should I get? I know I already bought an inflatable snake sprinkler I have yet to try out, but I better scan this aisle closely, twice, to make sure I don’t miss out on something that will be sold out the rest of the summer.
Now that I’m carrying a slip and slide (and my wallet, keys and phone because I have no pockets or purse), I try to make my way toward the boys clothes. I go by kitchenware and remember how the “chicken Facebook group” shared new chicken print towels sold at Walmart; I definitely need one if it’s in stock. Not in this aisle, let’s keep looking … could it be in the bath section? Or the summer decor section at the front?
As I’m searching for chicken towels (that I never find), I pass by the curtain aisle. I need to bite the bullet and just by blackout curtains for L now. Maybe we can actually sleep in tomorrow. Ya know, C has been needing new curtains, too, might as well pick those up … except he needs a curtain rod, too. Now I wonder which size, style, color to get…
So, now that I’m carrying a slip and slide, four curtain panels, a curtain rod and loose keys/wallet/phone, I realized I need a basket. I walk to front of store, have to set down my pile on random shelf so no one thinks I’m shoplifting, focus real hard on getting the cart and getting back to my pile so it doesn’t disappear.
And now I am finally looking in the shirt section (my one and only goal). I circle the entire section twice to make sure I don’t overlook anything — nothing’s great, but there is one pretty teal shirt — I hope C will wear it and I hope it’s the right size. It’ll probably be too big and I won’t have time to get a different one (it ended up being just right), but if I buy two sizes I know I’ll never return the other one.
OK, I have the shirt, great, oh look the underwear aisle … I’ve been meaning to get L some larger Paw Patrol undies for weeks. Let’s also see what other designs are in stock. And socks are right here, too, C could use some new ankle socks, he only wears the really long ones right now and it’s too hot for that today and he’s supposed to look nice too…
Eventually, I make it out of the store. With an $8 shirt, $140 of other random crap and 10 minutes late for my sandwiches. This is me doing my best!
If you can relate, let Tory know in the comments below.
Getty image by kei_gokei