So I called my friend Maureen Friday afternoon to make plans to get together that evening. Before we could get very far, though, the person she was meeting showed up and she told me she'd call me back in a few minutes. No problemo. I'll pause here and let people know that when I'm home alone for a while I tend to get a little squirrelly. About ten minutes later my phone rang and it said "Private Caller" on the caller ID. Based on Maureen's profession, having a blocked number is very reasonable. So I answered the phone singing a variation of Tina Turner's "Private Dancer" (You're my private caller, a caller who's money, you'll call who wa-ant to...) and I got this: "Um, is Maia Kelley there?" Craaaaaaaaap! It was my doctor's office calling to confirm an appointment for next Tuesday. When I get there I fully expect to be handed a referral for mental health services.