CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- It's a shame there's already a book out there called "An Unfinished Life" since that would've made an ideal title for the story of my life.
Just ask my husband. He swears I suffer from ADHD, except in my case, it stands for Attention Deficit Home-remodeler's Disorder. I'm not the only one who suffers from my affliction. Those who live with me suffer as well, as they're forced to reside around and with my unfinished projects.
I'm not certain how I came to be so afflicted, but confess that my case is severe. I suspect the origins go back many years, to when I first entered the work force and an older co-worker told me the best way to become an irreplaceable employee was to devise a filing system so complicated (or inane) that no one else could navigate their way through it.
(This particular co-worker's own system included two drawers devoted to the letter "T" due to her large number of files that started with "The." The State of West Virginia. The Department of Motor Vehicles.)
So completely to heart did I take her advice that I was soon applying it in ways that went beyond mere filing - far, far beyond. To most every corner of my house and yard. Not only would no one be able to unmuck my many messes, but they'd be unwilling as well.
From the time we first walked through the doors of our house, my wheels started turning. There were so many possibilities.
And so little money or time.
But those afflicted with my variant of ADHD would never allow measly finances or a frequently erratic schedule to deter them from starting a large, involved and extremely messy project (or three). Not for a minute. True ADHD sufferers are fueled by such limitations. Such roadblocks not only make the job more of a challenge, but they also provide legitimate-sounding excuses for not completing the job.