ADHD, Procrastination, and Pedicures
In true ADDiva style, I began to fall behind in my pedicure schedule. I couldn’t get my ADHD brain to believe that spending time on a pedicure was as important as other activities.
It’s November and I still have naked toes. Ewwww. Are we gonna talk about TOES? Ewwwww! Trust me, it’s relevant to ADHD.
First, you should know that I’ve never been much of a spa babe — one of those women who actually get regular manicures and facials. For the most part, I’m a practical farmer’s daughter who gets by on a seven-minute beauty regimen. My claim to fame is that I used to polish my fingernails at the stoplights on the way to work (not a recommended practice). It was the only time I could sit still long enough to let the polish dry.
When I turned 50, I had my first professional pedicure. Ooh-la-la! I liked having “grown-up toenails.” Those neatly painted toes were so out of character for me that when I’d catch a glimpse of them in the shower or walking barefoot, I’d be shocked. Then I’d blush with the secret pleasure of knowing that my toes were certainly not in sync with my chaotic attention deficit disorder — they screamed sophistication!
I maintained my glamorous toenails all summer, into autumn, and even through the winter months. As usual, I got a little bored with the whole nail polish scene. By the time my birthday rolled around in April of the next year, I had decided pedicures would be a seasonal indulgence. Summer: yes. Winter: no.
In true ADDiva style, I began to fall behind in my pedicure schedule. I couldn’t get my ADHD brain to believe that spending time on a pedicure was as important as other activities, like surfing the internet, or cooking for my dogs.
This year, I renewed my vow to sport grown-up toes. In February, we traveled to Portland, Oregon for a conference. The spa did a great job on my toenails. By March, the polish looked a little tired, so I carefully removed it, knowing I’d get painted toenails again soon.
April came and went without a pedicure, (not even on my birthday). May, June, July: really busy with other important stuff. I’d get to it soon; there was still plenty of time for my summer pedicure. In August, I began to lose hope; some of my young coaching clients were back in school already, a sure sign summer was ending.
But I had a beach retreat planned for September — a great excuse to get a pedicure. Oops, the nail salon was out of business. Tough economy. And I wasn’t helping the nail business much.
October. Pumpkins. Witches. Halloween. No summer pedicure yet. It’s October, for Pete’s sake!
Two weeks ago, I finally got my summer pedicure. Friday, November 13th. The sun was shining. It was 80 degrees in Miami Beach. I have grown-up toes once again.
My “summer pedicure”? No problem. I’ve rebranded it as my “semi-annual pedicure.” I’m due again in May, 2010. Maybe I’d better write that in my planner. And my iPhone. And Google calendar. And on a sticky note.
Updated on June 7, 2021