It’s 3:30am, and my sleep meds should be kicking in. I stopped reading my book to figure out how old my grandparents were during the setting. Definitely ADD, possibly OCD in the way in which I wrote it down and checked my math. But also, it just feels like me. It’s not a school book, so OCD doesn’t should rules so much, and I have the time to take side steps. Reminds me that some of what we do could be labeled as OCD or ADD or another ailment, but as per most entries in the DSMs, illness brings one distress. I don’t feel any distress from this now large reading distraction. In fact, right now I’m smiling while thinking about my grandparents on the beach with the characters. Monk may have gotten that line right about it being a gift and a curse. (Others focused on his gift; he reminded them of the curse.). But maybe we can sometimes embrace when our brains are atypical. I know I won’t take my ADD meds while being creative. My “space cadet” ADD helps my mind open to new things. I tend to think of my OCD as just a jerk, but maybe it’s taught me some good too. Here’s to a good side of our worst enemy. And to drifting off dreaming of one’s grandparents hanging out together on the beach. 🥰💜💪🏼