My productivity happens in fits and starts, and usually I can be found getting lost doing something that completely sidetracks me from the initial task at hand.
Although my ADHD diagnosis last October was very enlightening, and opened a floodgate of relief just to know that there is an explanation for my “issues,” I’ve still not been able to manage “executive” tasks very well at all.
If someone were to watch me get office work done, they would feel more like they were watching short attention span theatre on broadway.
If you have ever read the children’s book “if you give a moose a muffin”- then watching me get something done in my office is kind of like that. In the story – this kid gets a visit from a moose ( and obviously he has ADHD) and he gives the moose a muffin, but the moose wants some jam to go with it, and then he realizes he misses his grandmother who used to make homemade jam, which reminds him he used to like to play dress up with her, and so he goes to do that, and then it reminds him of something else, until he gets so far away from the initial task at hand but somehow manages to circle back to do the original thing he’d intended which was simply to eat a muffin! GAWD!
Last night, this is pretty much what happened… I began with the intention to get my office re-organized, but as I was cleaning, I came across a box of photos so decided to look through those, which reminded me of a poem my brother wrote, which reminded me that I’d really wanted to submit one of his poems to Yankee Magazine, so I wonder where I might have an old copy of one- and then… yeah…like that. *sigh* I exhaust myself sometimes when I try to get stuff done.
About two hours later I’d given up. I sat with an old bag of tootsie rolls (last years halloween leftovers) I found stashed amongst some other randomness and decided to put my feet up on my desk to read some old journal entries – because thats productive.
I’ve been keeping journals since I was twelve – I found an old journal that had a bunch of entries I’d written about my friend Edip, who manufactures my product line for a company I’ve had since 2004 which happens to be the exact reason I was organizing my office to begin with! ( See how these things all work out?)
Edip is from Turkey, and no one can ever really get a strait answer from him about how old he really is. He’s been in the US for over thirty years and I can still barely understand him. He’s one of the most wonderful, talented and exasperating people I have ever met because I swear he likes to yank my chain and uses the language barrier as a claim to innocence whenever we have any production issues.
“I no understand you Mone-eek-ka” as if this is my problem, and not his.
Edip used to be the main man back in the day- King of the garment district, and he still makes me call him King Edip when he’s feeling spry.
“I no make it for you” he says to me if he is mad a me.
Who do you think you are? I might say..
“Who I think I am? King Edip, this is who is me Mon-eek-ka, yuh.”
He pronounces my name this way each time- it’s endearing most of the time, and then as is to reaffirm his statement he always finishes by saying;
..after everything- as if this makes whatever he says, true.
We’ve developed quite a partnership over the years, and I consider him part of my family now. I know that when Edip came into my life – it was a God wink. In 2004 with a baby strapped to my body- my partner and I walked wide eyed through the garment district, as I clutched my poorly made sample (I’m pretty sure it was stapled vs. sewn) trying to find someone who could turn our idea into a product, and we just happened to meet Edip through another non-speaking english man who sat at a register in a trim store and gesticulated with his hands for us to sit while he scurried into a back room somewhere. When he came back he told us “wait” and we did, until Edip walked through the door to take us a block away into a factory where we would spend the next several weeks learning all there was to know about manufacturing, sewing, cutting, trims, fusing, and how to negotiate with certain jobbers. In the garment district they call each other “the turk,” the jew,” “the russian,” “the black” and no one gets offended- it’s just how they do it. By the time I’d gotten settled in the district I became “the blonde” – shocking, i know.
If you’ve ever been to the Garment District in NYC then you know that it’s a bit like being in another land entirely where there is an upper world, middle world, and under world. What happens below ground level is nothing short of remarkable- and if you want to get anything done you have to know the right people (most of whom do not speak english!) How I do most of my production with Edip these days is by drawing pictures and “s-plaining” by phone…. each time I call King Edip he makes me tell him I love him and only then can we discuss business…
“I Luff you”
That’s how he says it- isn’t that cute? So I say…
“I Luff you too”
Keeps life interesting- no?
So where was I going with this? NOWHERE! I was cleaning the OFFICE!
Exactly people- exactly.
Welcome to my WORLD.