Today’s Almost Daily Dispatch comes to you from a Walmart parking lot in the Pacific Northwest.

A Walmart parking lot, you ask?

Behold: your friendly, neighborhood Walmart Spark Delivery Driver.

Even a semi-retired, fifty-something, recovering burnout needs to make some scratch. Let’s be real: Momma needs her Botox money. I wanted to return to the workforce on my terms, but I just didn’t know how. I entered the gig economy a few months ago, and I’ve discovered a way of earning income that I truly enjoy for the first time in… well, forever.

For the first time since my very first job at fourteen, I get to set the terms of when, where, and how I exchange my energy for USD. I am stunned by how having even a sliver of autonomy over my work-life balance has reenergized this corner of my soul.

However, there are a few rare “stinker” days—like today—where the orders simply don’t materialize. So, here I sit, typing away on my Chromebook while the Spark app displays the never-ending spinning icon of despair on my phone. It swirls hypnotically, over and over: “Searching for offers near you.”

Still searching.

Sigh.

I haven’t spoken much about my ADHD yet—that’s a deep well for future posts—but for now, let’s focus on the ADHD superpower of hyperfixation. As defined by ADD.org, “ADHD hyperfixation is an intense focus on a specific activity, hobby, or interest… It occurs when the ADHD brain seeks dopamine through highly engaging activities, creating a strong sense of flow.”

Whoooo-whee, have I found a new fixation that trips all those triggers! The Spark Delivery Driver App.

DING.

My first dopamine hit of the day. It’s like sitting in a Las Vegas casino and hearing the slot machine hit the jackpot. When the orders finally flood the Spark zone, it’s a cacophony of audio alerts: “Just for You,” “First Come, First Served”—each with its own unique chime.

A brief snippet of the pay, the order type, the mileage, and the estimated time flashes on the screen. The adrenaline starts to pump as I quickly analyze the logistics of the haul. My brain enters rapid-fire mode:

• Am I driving to the boonies?
• Is there a risk of getting shot for wandering onto private land?
• Will the sun have risen by the time I’m ready to deliver?
• Is it an apartment? If so, how many flights of stairs?
• Why is someone ordering three bottles of wine at 7:00 AM?
• Oh my lawd, how many flats of water?!

All of this information hits my brain in a glorious tidal wave. My synapses fire, and the dopamine burn starts to make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Quickly, I make my selection. An Express Shop. My absolute favorite.