(the “WRITE ON” series is just a way to keep me writing and updating this blog. Most of these “WRITE ON” posts won’t have any depth– it’s just writing for the sake of writing, so I don’t forget how to write.)

Have you ever laid in bed, waiting to fall asleep, and then a thought/memory enters your mind that is so cringeworthy that you just kick the blanket off of you?

I have plenty.
But let me share with you this one today:

I was in the 7th or 8th grade.
I had a huge crush on this girl.

One day, I decided that I was going to muster up all the courage I had and give her a call and see if she wanted to hangout or something.
Luckily for me, her phone number (or rather, her family’s) was listed in the phonebook (remember those??).

I didn’t know why it was so difficult to press 7 numbers on the phone but after what felt like eternity, I heard the ringing.
And then I heard the ringing. I started to panic: what am I doing? What am I going to say? What if her parents answer the phone? Why did I do this? This was a bad idea! Oh no! Hanguphanguphurryupandhangupthisisgonnaendbadly!
I was about to hang up when I hear a “hello?” on the other line.
OH. NO.
And. It was her dad.
I panicked. Hard.
“Uh. Yes… hello… uhm…”
“Yes, hello.”
ohnoohnoohnowhatdoIsay…
Panicking, I said the first thing that popped into my head:
“Yes… uh.. M-may I speak to Joe?”
“This is he.”
What in the world? What are the chances? Ohnoohnoohnoohno
“Oh… uh… okay… sorry, I got the wrong number. Kthanksbye” and I hung up that phone as fast as I could.

That day I learned that her father and I shared the same name.

I sometimes wonder what he was thinking at the moment.
I asked to speak to a person, he said he was the person I was calling for, and I responded with, “Sorry, wrong number.”

I think about this phone call every once in a while… I don’t know why.
Once in a while, my brain says, “Hey. Remember the time…”

Phone calls have never been my forté.
I can’t help but feel awkward. Especially when leaving voicemails… that for some reason go on and on and on…and I know it goes on and on… and sometimes I even say things like, “sorry I’m rambling on and on.”

Ugh. Give me a blanket to kick off of me…