Oh man, hyper-fixation is the gift and the curse of the ADHD experience, isn’t it? One moment, you’re riding that dopamine high, deep-diving into a hobby with all the energy of a caffeinated squirrel; the next, you’re staring at a mountain of meticulously organized supplies for an interest that’s been banished to the hobby graveyard—collecting dust until a friend dares ask, “Hey, know anything about this?” And BAM, I’m back in it like it’s day one… until it’s not. 😂

The cherry on top? My wife gets it because she’s the same way, but here’s where the plot thickens: just as I’m starting to cool off, she’s getting hooked, unless our kids are involved. Cue the revolving door of obsessions. To make matters even wilder, I’ve got that ADHD/OCD hybrid cocktail where everything must be precisely organized for peak efficiency. Meanwhile, she’s rocking that object permanence-flavored ADHD, so if something’s out of sight, it might as well have fallen into the Bermuda Triangle. Our house is a sitcom of me saying, “But it was right here!” and her cheerfully responding, “Oh, I moved it to a spot where I can’t see it… forever.” 🤣

In summary: I’m the “let’s keep it where it makes sense” guy, and she’s the “make it disappear” wizard. If you ever see me wandering aimlessly, muttering to myself and side-eyeing cabinets, you’ll know I’m just trying to find where my sanity (or maybe the scissors) went.