I'll just be five more minutes (and other tales from my ADHD brain)

In these animated essays, Mother Mother podcaster Farris (Casserole Crazy) reflects on living with ADHD. "How We Got Here" recounts how Farris--struggling to juggle the responsibilities of motherhood and her job as a social media manager while keeping up with everyday chores--saw her troubles reflected in an article about women with ADHD, leading her to get diagnosed with the condition at age 35. The humorous entries offer insight into what it's like to have ADHD. For instance, "Re: New Thread" presents increasingly harried emails from Farris to a client as a two-hour copywriting gig turns into a two-day project that comes to include retooling the client's website, illustrating how people with ADHD "often underestimate how long it will take to get something done" and get distracted by unrelated tasks. Farris is frank about the challenges of the condition (she reports that fights with her husband often start because her poor impulse control leads her to make significant purchases the couple can't afford), but the essays are mostly lighthearted and comical, as when she details her sensory processing issues around rubbing fabric, writing that "the mere experience of watching someone rub their hand on their jeans will send me running into the other room." The result is a buoyant exploration of neurodivergence. Agent: Michael Bourret, Dystel, Goderich & Bourret. (Feb.)

Humorous essays about a woman trying to reconcile herself with her own mind. As she recounts in her first essay collection, which toggles between humor and poignancy à la Samantha Irby, Farris was in her mid-30s when she was diagnosed with ADHD, which "makes so much sense. I was a kid with a quick temper and a serious lack of impulse control. I interrupted sentences (my own included) with new ideas (brilliant ones, of course!), and I'd often get late-night bursts of inspiration that kept me up doing crafty projects way past my bedtime." As an adult, these issues persist. In between digging herself out from under mountains of dirty laundry and catching up on last year's tax forms, Farris offers trenchant thoughts on what it means to be neurodivergent and how she came to see her condition as a strength. "On our first anniversary, after a few too many Old Fashioneds," she writes, "I asked my husband if he regretted marrying me. 'I wouldn't exactly call it regret,' he said. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to explain his answer, but I didn't hear any of it." Farris describes a childhood among distracted adults, a hectic period as a young woman trying to finish college and earn a living in New York, awkward attempts to find love, and her current incarnation as a wife and mother. Decidedly nonlinear, the essays hop around both in time and subject matter. Though the author isn't always quite as funny as she thinks she is--her humor strains at times--and all the hopping about inevitably results in occasional repetition, these are mild complaints for a book that is engaging and appealing even when it falls short of captivating. A smart and charming collection from an endearingly spiky new voice. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.