ADHD? Introvert? Mental Health Struggles? Smart?

All of these could apply to me. You’d think I should know myself better as I approach forty-three years of age. But I don’t know. I wonder. In fact, I know myself less than I used, I often think.

I try to be honest in my writing and don’t think too much about how my stories are perceived. This one, though, is a little more difficult to write for one simple reason — what if a potential employer reads my Medium writing? Surely this soul-searching will be a red flag.

One of the reasons I decided to share this story is the acknowledgment that I cannot focus on things that don’t interest me. Like totally, medically unable. This is not some subtle attempt to compliment my character. It’s a huge problem. Life’s not always about doing things you like. In my case, it’s especially about not doing things I like because early in my life, I decided to build a large family, and the weight of responsibility is huge. In practical terms, I’m talking about my inability to focus on the vast majority of professional opportunities that present themselves to me or that I seek. If I’m not interested in crypto (which I’m not), you couldn’t make me interested even if you paid ten million dollars a year. I mean, I would probably lie about my interest and try getting the job, but you’d fire me pretty soon because my lack of enthusiasm would show. Crypto is just one example of many. In fact, the vast majority of corporate or business topics don’t interest me. At all. I stay in the loop with the news, but when there is a hot topic…