My ADHD: A Scenic Route Taken by a Lunatic with the Window Down

Creativity does not march in formation; it dances drunk in the street.

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I must confess something without ceremony: I have ADHD. This revelation will shock precisely no one who’s been trapped in conversation with me for more than forty-five seconds. If consistency and coherence were my crowning virtues, I’d be chiselling neat, lapidary¹ phrases into marble for the benefit of future schoolchildren.

Instead, my intellectual calling card is to veer off the highway of thought, take the exit ramp for no reason at all, pull into a cul-de-sac, hop out of the car, knock on a stranger’s door, and interrogate them about …