Freud Would Have A Field Day

by Cooper Young

Ok, so I have this small problem: I can’t call people.  Well, I can.  I can call people I know reasonably easily, and I can call people who I call often without any problem.  I can answer the phone; that’s not an issue.  What is an issue is when I have to call people who I don’t know to ask them things or make appointments.  Something about it entirely freaks me out, and I’m talking full-on fight or flight.  It can take me days, weeks, or even a full month to work up the courage to make a single phone call.  It’s not good.

The reason I’m telling you this is that after three torturous days of going “I’ll do it tomorrow”, I finally called the local Best Western to ask about prices on their wedding packages.  It was a perfectly normal phone call, and they are currently at the top of my reception venues list.  Now, I’m in the second phase of this particular neurosis: I’m all hopped up on adrenaline. Or dopamine.  Or something.

After making a five-minute phone call.

About buffet options.

I’m supposed to be writing a close-reading on one of the later paragraphs in Edith Wharton’s “Souls Belated”, but hell if I can focus right now, so instead I’m going to update this. 

Despite this weekend’s crippling workload, I managed to get some writing done.  I didn’t plan on it, and I’m going to be behind in my readings for tomorrow because of it, but it happened.  I tend to leave the document open on my desktop (which is why I forget to save and lose who scenes >.<), and what happens, blessedly, is that I occasionally click on it while aiming for my iTunes, read a sentence or two, and am in before I know it. 

This happened Saturday night, and upon reading the one paragraph that I happened to land on I realized that the final sentence refered to an event earlier in the story that…wasn’t there.  Now, I could have just deleted that one line and lost nothing, but me being me, I felt the need to go back in and shoehorn in the particular occurence.  It changed next to nothing plotwise, but if I hadn’t a crucial character (her name is Hidel, and if you ever get the chance to read it, you will LOATHE her) wouldn’t have been introduced until halfway through.  We can’t have that, now can we?

It’s just a cohesion issue, really. 

But yes.  That happened.  Now, to Ralph Gannett on why he’s a misogynist…