Eating out for Breakfast Larry & Teddy Page via Compfight

This weekend, my friend Elaine came over and together we refurbished my shed. (Ok, mostly I got in the way and held stuff and she used her power tools and ample woodworking skills, but still, I supervised).

Saturday was sunny and warm and our work went smoothly. Then, the darkening skies found me holding a flashlight and Elaine rushing to finish attaching one wall to the shed’s framework. The opposite side was stripped down to the frame so we put the plywood sheet inside to deter any would-be thieves (even though it was unlikely I’d be robbed).

On Sunday, Elaine arrived just before 9 a.m. Unlike the previous day, dark clouds threatened. I hoped the rain would hold off until the shed repair was finished. Monday I’d be back at work, and I didn’t want to leave my belongings strewn out on the lawn and the shed open to the elements.

Elaine didn’t stop to eat, but worked steadily to out run the storm. By the time the last tool was put away we were both famished.

After all Elaine’s hard work, the least I could do was treat her to brunch. Or maybe lunch; neither of us had stopped to look at a clock, but I guessed it was about noon as we headed for my car. I felt grateful as the first drop of rain hit my cheek.

Grateful and hungry.

Both of us had a lot to do yet that day, so we were glad when we found an open greasy spoon advertising “All-day breakfast: $4.99″

The dining room was large and full of empty tables set with old-fashioned white porcelain dishes, coffee mugs face down. As I flipped my cup over to signal that caffeine was in order, I noticed the only other person there was the young man who came to take our order.

It’s tough to stay in business in our sparsely populated rural area. Restaurants come and restaurants go, and everybody knows everybody. It feels almost personal when a business isn’t doing well.

Once our server had left, I lamented aloud that we were the only ones at our newly discovered breakfast joint.

“What time is it?” said Elaine.

I looked around for a clock. Finally, I spotted one; it was thickly framed in navy blue with a white face and large black hands and numbers. For a moment, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

Three o’clock.

“No.”

Yes.

“No.”

Yes. Look for yourself.

She did.

“Oh my God.”

ADHD sense of time, I said. Or make that, no sense of time.

Thinking about our ADHD (Elaine is part of the tribe) I said, I’m pretty good at guessing the time when the sun is shining. But on an overcast day, forget it.

Our server came by and warmed up our coffee.

I thought we were the only ones here for breakfast, I said. I can’t believe it’s three o’clock. That’s not even lunch.

“Lupper,” he said. “It’s lupper.”

No, I thought. It’s ADHD.

 

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    Last reviewed: 15 Sep 2013

APA Reference
Kessler, Z. (2013). Lupper with ADHD. Psych Central. Retrieved on October 31, 2014, from http://blogs.psychcentral.com/adhd-zoe/2013/09/lupper-with-adhd/

 

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