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I had to move home.  At 27, this isn't easy.  I have found a new place, all of my own, but for a few weeks I have been staying at my parents house. It's my turn to empty the dishwasher.

With moving comes all sorts of new information....new address, change in insurance, new phone numbers...all of which I have trouble remembering.

In all the confusion, I posted my new phone number on my Facebook profile so that I wouldn't have to look it up every half hour for one of my friends.  Nobody called.  I mean nobody.  I have friends, and yet none of them wanted to talk to me during this trying time in my life?  

After about a week I started to receive strange e-mails all going something like this,

"Katie!  Ha Ha Ha!   You're so funny!"

"Oh friend.  If you needed a place you stay, you should have asked!"

"Hey, we can hang out later, if you want.  I mean, If you're free....we could keep it professional."

Finally, after ten days of this,  one friend finally tracked me down at my parents house and explained that I had posted the wrong phone number.  All my friends, some of my family and even one potential employer had been leaving messages for me at Merritt's own, 'Happy endings massage parlour,' above the Husky station at the truck stop.  No kidding.  I couldn't make this kind of stuff up if I tried.