Something happened last night that hasn’t happened in about three months: I forgot to do the dishes.
If you’ve followed any of my past posts, you know I have ADHD. For the past few months, I’ve been working hard to build systems that help me get through the day, especially the boring stuff. Washing the dishes became part of that system. Not just because I like a clean sink (though I do), but because I had to rewire my brain to create little rewards throughout the day.
Just like everyone else, I’m driven by dopamine, I need it. That little hit you get from endlessly scrolling TikTok or Instagram? That’s what I crave. But rather than scroll, I had to find ways to dose myself with those feel-good chemicals in a more productive way. That’s how I tricked my brain into being useful.
My workday usually starts with easy tasks: emails and admin stuff. Not because it’s the most effective way to tackle work, but because it helps me ease into the day. I work from home, so in between tasks I feed the dogs, make breakfast for my wife, and maybe step outside to clean up the yard. These tiny breaks help me stay focused. More importantly, they keep me off my phone.
Everything I do has a routine. A rhythm. Like when I get home from the gym:
- Walk in.
- Set down my bag.
- Put away my empty protein container and coffee mug.
- Disassemble the coffee machine
- Wash dishes
- Get the dogs’ bowls and prep their food.
- Refill the coffee machine.
- Fill my protein container for the next day.
- Clip everything back to my bag.
It’s a dance. One move leads to the next. Every action cues the next step. That structure is what keeps me functioning. When I follow it, I get my “doses” and things click.
But last night, I broke the routine.
After dinner, my wife and I usually watch car crash videos (different story for a different time) before I do the dishes. Our dog always whines, waiting for his post-dinner treat, which we always give him after the dishes are done. But for whatever reason, maybe I was feeling generous, I gave him the treat before doing the dishes.
That small shift wrecked the flow.
The next thing I know, I’m sitting on the couch, laughing at something, and the dishes? Totally forgotten.
When I came downstairs this morning and saw them sitting in the sink, the old me would’ve been annoyed. I might’ve even blamed someone else out of reflex. But instead, I paused, thought about the dog treat moment, and realized I messed up my own rhythm. One break in routine and the whole system collapsed.
And that’s kind of the point.
If you live with ADHD, routines aren’t just helpful. They are critical. They might seem boring or rigid from the outside, but they exist for a reason. They are the framework that keeps everything else together. When that framework cracks, even a little, the whole structure shifts.
But here’s the other piece: mindfulness.
I’ve learned that I have to be mindful of what fuels me, what keeps me moving. When something breaks, instead of spiraling, I’ve taught myself to reset.
Do it now. Do it right.
Did I forget to put on face lotion before I left the house? Don’t say “screw it.” Go back and do it.
Did I skip a step in my morning routine? Don’t ignore it. Fix it. NOW!
I’ve gotten better at catching myself in those moments, pausing, and course-correcting. Because if I don’t, I fall behind. Falling behind with ADHD is like quicksand. You start sinking, and then panic sets in…
You know those memes about someone with a meeting at 11 a.m. who does absolutely nothing until 10:55 because they’re too anxious to start anything else? That used to be me. Still is, sometimes.
It’s that analysis paralysis that I’ve been fighting.
There have been whole days where I thought about doing my reports but didn’t actually do them. Then something unexpected would pop up, and BOOM! Buried in the sand.
So now, if I can’t do the main thing right away, I substitute it with something that pushes me forward: washing a dish, tidying a counter, taking a short walk. But it cannot be scrolling my phone. That’s a black hole. It has to be something intentional. Something useful. Earned dopamine.
So, long story short: before I wrote this, I did the dishes. Every second I was doing them, I thought about telling this story. I thought about how one small deviation reminded me of the systems I’ve built and why I need them. But I completed that task before completed this one. “Do it now. Do it right.”
I hope this helped someone out there, or at the very least, made you laugh. Until next time…