💜 will do. I hope to visit my sister and our best man who are still there when things calm down a bit.

I’m the Marshall of the Happy Jack, Arizona Christmas Parade. All shall love me and despair.

I was! In Scotland for school. Was in Snohomish County for about a decade. Your Lucy Loved That Walk photos make me miss the place.

And it has better restaurants 🤷🏻

Omg I love the south end. It feels more like home (originally from San Diego) than the rest of the very white place.

Ahh, yeah, Seattle do be like that. My sister’s in a suburb (think Shoreline) and has a literal hole in her floor and she’s grateful because it lowered the cost!

That is really cool, though. I like a house with history.

I LOVED swings when I was little. Teachers used to pretend they didn’t notice me on the swings when I wasn’t meant to be because I did my work and needed SOMETHING to refocus.

Completely in the same boat. I’m in a 1920s flat and there’s not even space for a dinner table, but the chair was a must.

My husband with ADHD swears by the white board.

Live by the board. Hopefully not die by the board.

I like my IKEA Poang but there are so many excellent choices! She was like “baby gliders are popular”.

“—a graduate degree and having told no one you need help.”

Bless her. Really. I have some on file that I don’t need during good times, but as things have gotten bad (I swear stressful life shit KNOWS when you can’t deal with it), I am grateful they’re there.

“If not, write it down somewhere. Text it to someone. Email it to yourself. When you discover it again, do it.”

Extremely useful.

And lastly she was like “girl [gender neutral] get your damn accommodations. Yeah, it’s a pain but you know what’s a worse pain? Being three months into—“

One that’s particularly hard for me is that long COVID shot holes in my memory, which now manifests in a much more scattered way. I used to effortlessly remember things I have to do, promises I made, etc.

She was like “you’re gonna forget. That’s fine. If you can, do it when you think of it.”

—she acknowledged the unknown territory and the very real dysregulation I described to her.

Rocking while I read or write satisfies that “always be moving” feeling while allowing me to keep doing what I need to do. Also I rock back and forth as a stim when stressed, so giving me a chair gives it a good outlet.

She was pretty great. Instead of going “you don’t have ADHD, you’re fine”—

That’s FINE. Stop forcing it. I have a planner for what I absolutely need and that’s that. I’m never going to file my embroidery floss by SKU. Much as the idea delights me, I will always get distracted and then bummed out that my floss is now a giant mess. Better to contain it than make a project.

It takes the judgment of “I can’t do this” away because I literally tried. Try again later.

Next is “know thyself.” I WANT to be organized. I’m great at organizing…things that I want to organize (hello, library work) and nothing else. I’m not going to achieve bullet journaling.

I don’t really find fidgets helpful, likely because of the pain in my hands. But a rocking chair literally moves like I would anyway.

The second was “try for a few minutes.” This is to get past the mental block of starting. Once I have started, either momentum takes me or I can shrug it off.

The first has been an absolute goddamn lifesaver as I deal with graduate level work: movement.

I almost stopped her—I have ME/CFS and exercise is a dangerous proposition. She saw me and held up a hand. “Doesn’t have to be exercise. Get a rocking chair.”

Game changed. Forever.