Apparently when you go to a therapist's office, say "I think I have ADD," describe your life and describe ADD by doing so, they don't necessarily make you fill out a questionnaire or anything!

that may have been the most productive hour of my entire life.

and now: to conquer other doctor's offices, especially when nobody answers the damn phone.

(and then to collect my Rue, and figure out some way to celebrate, I guess.)

so this one time, we were at the Metro 20, and I went into the men's room and discovered that it was the most well-equipped men's room I've been in in my life.

in the stall was the sports section of the paper and a bottle of Spic & Span disinfectant.

it was amazing.

---

I won't be going there again soon, though, because Rue has come down with swine flu, and so I get to hang out and take care of her through her time of quarantine.

since technically this makes me quarantined too, I ... think. ish.

(meanwhile, despite spending massive amounts of time around her, my only sign of illness has been a slightly-sore throat last night that hasn't been bothering me today except for when I went several hours without anything to drink. similarly my sister, despite picking up a wretched case of mono about two months ago [which I think means she has three more months to go before being considered clear of it], has not gained a case of flu yet despite a lot of traveling around with her boyfriend, who does now have a case of it.)

also, Tamiflu is a) real and b) fucking expensive. I bitch about the cost of my anti-inflammatories, but those are at least a 30-day supply for $80 ... not a five-day supply.