What's in a Name?

New Year's Eve had arrived. The day we scroll social media to find a gazillion posts of soon to be broken promises, outright lies and ploys for attention. Thats right, it's the whole new year, new me thing. I don't hate New Year's Eve, but you have to admit, it's likely the best day of the year to post certain things on Facebook especially in the marketplace, such as all the exercise equipment, self help books and organization supplies you purchased last year. Personally, I don't own any of those things. I do, however, have something I need to get rid of soon. 

Something, or rather someone, named Naomi Whooper. The woman who lives to make me miserable. She is the one thing I need to get rid of this year. It's just that I can't actually post her for sale on social media. I don't even know why I keep going back to see her. She makes me feel very miserable. She's my therapist. I must admit, I feel beaten down and outright spanked each time I visit her office. She certainly lives up to her name quite well.

Naomi insists I have anxiety. I'm pretty sure it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out I have anxiety. However this woman has a gorgeous professional degree hanging above her desk which gives her the right to do certain things, including telling me I have anxiety. It even gives her the right to get paid to tell me I have it. 

Who doesn't have at least some form of anxiety anyway? If you answered, "me", you should make an appointment with Naomi Whooper to get help for your own histrionic, narcissist or border line personality illness. You can find her quite easily on a google search. How many therapists could possibly have the name Naomi Whooper?

Apparently I see Naomi for anxiety, OCD and procrastination syndrome. At least that's what Naomi says when I visit her each week. During my last appointment, Naomi insisted I return to visit her on December 31st at two in the afternoon to give her my new year resolutions. This is supposed to be good practice for my procrastination syndrome which apparently creates my anxiety or so she says. I don't argue with Naomi. I wouldn't recommend arguing with this woman anyway. 

I sip my coffee as I consider my resolution options. I scroll through social media as I sip. The first post I see makes me almost spit coffee all over my screen. Barbie Dahl has posted her new year resolution. She's going to get in shape this year. OMG you scrawny stringbean! Get a life, I find myself saying out loud. 

Barbie Dahl is already far more gorgeous than the rest of us. Most of us are more roundish like a jelly bean, except squishy like a gummy bear. I take another slurp of my coffee, well maybe half coffee since its half filled with creamer and sugar, as I mark getting in shape off my mental resolution list. I'll never look like Barbie Dahl anyway. I'm sure Naomi has some fancy name for Barbie too. Barbie should make an appointment. 

I continue scrolling past the various photos of intoxicated people playing with fireworks last night. Jack Daniel's had a great time at the party Tom Collins threw in his barn last night. Jim Beam stopped by and brought his new girlfriend, Brandy Holder. I'm sure Naomi could recommend a good support group for this bunch. 

Next up is a post from Anita Job. I try to remember how I even know Anita. Oh yea, I used to work with her. She had a great job. She quit. Her resolution this year is a vow to look for work. Yea I bet you need a job, Anita Job, I murmur beneath my breath as I move on.

I continue scrolling past the overload of memes wishing everyone a Happy New Year from Harry Barber, Ida Naoh and Jack Goff. I mean, do these people really even care if you have a happy new year or not? I really doubt it. 

Soon I find another resolution. It doesn't take very long. I only scroll past ten advertisements for gym memberships, meal plan ideas and an advertisement for air fryers to find it. I stop scrolling for a moment to try to remember if I had looked up air fryers recently, but the only thing regarding air fryers I could remember was when Aunt Cookie talked about them over Christmas dinner. Apparently Alexa can be quite nosey. 

The next resolution post is from Paige Turner. She vows to read a new book every month. She asks for recommendations from her friends. Somehow I bet, a person like Paige Turner, is going to actually accomplish her resolution this year. I felt a little jealous as I read through the comments on her post. Filthy romance and of course self help books for every mental illness that exists. I start to recomend the books Matthew, Mark, Luke and John just to be mean, but I resist the temptation. 

As I scroll on, I see posts by people who refuse to make any resolutions at all. These are my people. They are likely the smartest of the bunch. I.P. Freely, Eaton Beaver and Crystal Ball are all very happy with how they live their lives. At least they are realistic if nothing else. I'm sure Naomi has some fancy smancy name for them too. I make a mental note to ask her this afternoon. Anything to deter Naomi from talking about me is good. It's called deflection. I've gotten very good at it. Its probably part of one of my mental illnesses. I'm just not sure which one. Naomi probably knows. 

Oh here's a nice one, I think when I see a post by Phil A. Hooker. He's from a great family and is such an ambitious young man. He just graduated with a four year pre-med degree a few weeks ago. His resolution is to be accepted to medical school where he intends to study plastic surgery. Phil A. Hooker wants to help women get relief from back breaking jugs or help them gain a couple of perky melons. I'm sure he plans to live up to his family name. 

I continue to scroll until I see another resolution that makes me stop scrolling. Lois Price isn't planning to accomplish any great studies, get in shape or read any books this year. Her goal is to save money this year. She is asking her friends for ideas and recommendations for the best ways to do just that. I read through the comments and wonder why no one has recommended looking for the lowest price. I'm sure Lois Price will figure it out so I scroll on without offering my thoughts to her. 

I can't seem to get any ideas from social media. Patty Butters vows to lose weight, but she'll have to do the things her husband, Les Butters did last year when he lost a hundred pounds. I scroll right past Mona Lott's post since all she does is groan and complain. Monika Beaver has posted an announcement about her wedding next year to John Wiener. I can just see the wedding announcement now. Please plan to attend the joining of Beaver and Weiner. The thought actually makes me spit my coffee all over my screen.

I get up to find a tissue and clean my screen. While I'm up, I make another cup of cream and sugar with a little coffee. As I'm pouring the brew, I get an idea. I quickly wipe off my screen and find Naomi's number in my contact list. 

As the line is ringing, I pray she won't pick up the phone. To my surprise, it's my lucky day, she doesn't answer. Her voice comes across the line. "This is Naomi Whooper. I'm busy right now. Please leave a message and I will call you back as soon as I can." No, Naomi, please don't call back, I think. 

I leave a message, "Good morning Ms. Whooper. This is your patient, Ben Stalling, I'm just calling to say that I won't be in today. I can't come up with any resolutions anyway." I hesitate a moment then add, "I'll call next week and make another appointment."

After I hang up, I sit back down with my fresh cup of brew and continue to procrastinate my day because this is just what I do. I don't exactly know why.

The very next post is by Mark Z. Spot, who happens to love Shakespearen quotes. 

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.” William Shakespeare uses this line in his play Romeo and Juliet to convey that the naming of things is irrelevant. 

How very true, I think as I keep scrolling, what's in a name anyway?