Page 116 of Don't Go Faking My Heart

The room doesn't just need a cleaning, it needs an exorcism.

Stop, I think. My old therapist helped me view my ADHD as a superpower, but there's no denying it's also my kryptonite. Just picking a place to start is overwhelming. I grab a pair of socks on the floor and throw them in the hamper and put a book on the shelf and put paper in a drawer, and then I squeeze my temples. Has Rusty seen what a mess I am? Is he as disgusted by me as all the guys in my life become eventually?

No. You’re spiraling. Anxiety is common with ADHD. You’re underslept and overly emotional. What you need is a good night’s sleep and to have an honest conversation with Rusty. He loves you.

Yeah, and he’ll love me better if I’m not such a mess.

I spend hours trying to organize my room and my thoughts. Every time the overwhelm hits, I think of Rusty turning off his light so I would know I can't come in.

By the middle of the night, the room is totally decluttered, though my thoughts are worse than ever.

I barely sleep.

I get up early, shower, and then blow dry my hair with Parker's round brush. I flat iron my curls to death. My hair has so much product in it, I'm a walking fire hazard. I put my glasses on the counter—nope! These belong in my "glasses drawer," which I now have, thank you very much—and put in contacts that very well may be expired.

I wear a navy pencil skirt and heels with a camel colored blouse. Neat and professional with exactly zero quirk factor.

I'm the first one to the Jane & Co. offices.

When Lou and Parker find me in the conference room, my eyes are burning from staring at the presentation I whipped up in the middle of the night.

Lou slows when she sees me. But then she keeps walking. "Mornin,’ hon. You ready for the meeting?"

I expected a comment. "Uh, yeah. I made another presentation. And this time, I have cue cards."

My friends look at each other. I know exactly what they’re going to say. They’re going to stage a mini intervention or tell me I’m overreacting. They’re going to outline exactly what I should do because I’m such a wreck that I can’t even be trusted to take care of my own hair, let alone my life.

But Lou shrugs and sits next to me. “Cool.”

“Cool?” I echo.

Parker sits across from us. “Yeah, cool.”

Millie and Jane come in next. If they notice my hair or outfit, they don’t comment on it. Jane smiles. “Are we ready to take over Sugar Maple?”

I stare at my friends. “What are you guys doing?”

“What do you mean?” Millie asks, pulling out her laptop and then looking at mine. “Oh, do you have another presentation? Smart thinking. In case anyone didn’t get the memo that we made them a lot of money over the last week, you can slap them with some facts and figures.”

“I love slapping people with facts and figures.” Parker smirks. “Okay, show us what you got, AJ.”

They’re all staring at the screen, waiting. “What is going on here?” I ask.

They turn to me. “We’re waiting for you to show us?—”

I cut Lou off. “No, the way you guys are acting. You’re ignoring a pretty big elephant in the room.” I gesture to myself.

“You look great,” Parker says. “I mean, you clearly raided my closet, but it works.”

“I look like Frank’s Version of Ash,” I say.

“No you don’t,” Millie says. “You look like Ash. With straight hair and a snappy business outfit.”

“I stayed up all night and decluttered my room! I cleaned and organized for six straight hours. I have a glasses drawer now, and it’s bigger than my underwear drawer.”

A laugh escapes Lou. “Sorry, but that was funny. I love that you have more glasses than McLadyPants.”

Jane snickers, too.

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