﻿The noise we hear in our head | Everyday Health

The noise we hear in our head

From a distant slumber, I woke...
It was that noise - that dreaded noise.
My mind raced, and I leapt out of bed leaving my dogs to scatter.
Staggering my way into the next room, I could hear that the noise was closer now.

I chastised myself, "Blast! Why didn't you..."
No. No time for that, I must focus. Focus, Jason, focus.
I grabbed a T-shirt from the top of the laundry, pulled it on and looked for some pants. Pants or sweats? Pants or sweats?! PANTS OR SWEATS?!!
It doesn't matter; just grab whatever is the quickest! I thought to myself.

I jumped into the nearest pair of trousers, buttoned and zipped them as I dashed down the steps.

The noise loomed closer yet.

I spun to a seat on the couch and reached under the coffee table pulling out two shoes.

Good news and bad news. The good news was that they were both mine; the bad news was that one was a shoe and the other was a sneaker. More bad news - they're both lefties.

"Screw it, just put them on..." I plunged both feet in at the same time and tucked in the laces (it was no time for tying).

The noise seemed to be right on top of me now.

I sprinted to the back door, flung it open and rushed to the gate. I looked down my block and realized that I had won.

Once again, I had beaten the garbage truck!

As I dragged the garbage can out to the curb, the ever-present mother hen voice in my head began its diatribe: "Other people don't behave like this." "Why can't you remember?" "You do this every week." "Suzanne even reminded you." "You are the A.D.D poster-child."

Suddenly, my self-flagellation was interrupted by a noise; a new noise. I turned and looked up the street. I saw my neighbor, Alan, (still in his pajamas and barefoot) pulling his garbage can to the curb with one hand and carrying a full white plastic trash bag in the other.

He hadn't put his trash can out either.

