So ... what is an ADDass, anyway?

I'm an ADDass ... I've known it all my life, just never knew what my proper title was until recently.

An ADDass is someone like me, who has Attention Deficit Disorder, or Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, or whatever the heck you want to call my particular set of symptoms, and has a way of manifesting those symptoms in a way that tends to make oneself look like an ass.

Tonight was a good example.

We had just arrived home, I on my motorcycle and he in my Kia Sorento, and I said to him, "Don't go anywhere just yet, we have to reprogram the remotes since they're all here in one place."

Ah, yes, the fabled garage door opener remotes. I managed to reset all the remote codes on Sunday when I was trying to save the keypad code. I had erased the keypad code when I programmed the remotes a few weeks ago, and I couldn't figure out how to save a new keypad code. Forget finding the instructions that came with the garage door opener. I'm an ADDass, remember?

My mom had been bitching for several weeks that she couldn't get into my house because I didn't have a keypad code, and that bitch had actually taken on some urgency as Hurricane Wilma was knock, knock, knockin' on Florida's door. Someone had to take care of my cats and dog, since hubby and I were working overlapping shifts and our presence at work was required during the hurricane.

Where was I? Oh yeah, Friday night and we had just arrived home from the store. Since the garage door opener remotes weren't working, I had to use my key to go through the front door so I could open the garage door and put my motorcycle in the garage.

Except I couldn't get in the front door.

No, it couldn't be something as simple as forgetting my key. I had the damn key. What I didn't have was a way to open the screen door and undo the dog-proof deadbolt that was holding it closed so I could get my key into the locks. (We have to have the deadbolt on the screen door because the dog knows how to open it. And he loves to run!)

So there we are, standing on our own front porch, unable to get into our own house because I had an ADDass moment before we left and forgot to take the deadbolt off the screen door after the pizza guy delivered our dinner, which happened before we went to the store.

I was about to break out my motorcycle tool kit to see what I could use to pry the screen door open when Mike remembered he had a hunting knife in his truck. He used the knife to remove the screen from the screen door so he could get to the deadbolt.

Meanwhile, the dog is barking at us like we're intruders. (Even dogs have ADDass moments ...) And I was getting pissed at myself for leaving the deadbolt on in the first place. Not the first time, and probably not the last time, but I was living in the moment and I was quite frustrated with myself. We had bought two rather large packages of paper towels at the store. I had dropped them in front of the garage door, and I cajoled myself out of my ADDass moment by kicking the paper towels repeatedly.

I can only imagine what the neighbors were thinking ...