How did I get here?

Work on my book has utterly stalled. I began this project in February with a great amount of enthusiasm - the first three chapters pretty much wrote themselves. Since then, however (and I'm now on Chapter 12 - 68 pages into the book) it has been like trudging through an enormous snowbank. I can see glimpses of the image, but I'm not 'in the moment' - living, breathing, feeling what the main character is feeling. Nevertheless, I shoveled on - gaining some ground, but not any inspiration for where the story is going to go.

Today, I took several hours to look at photographs online of locations that likely ressembled my invented land. A few minutes ago, I had a breakthrough. I've been trying to tell too much of the story too quickly. For goodness sake, I've written 68 pages and the real journey hasn't even started yet! So, I'm going back to that third chapter to pick up the thread from there. I won't throw out the rest - it may appear in book two or at the end of book one. We'll see.

Why am I telling you this? Because it's on my mind and has pleasantly distracted me from thinking about my pending date with Eeyore.

So here's the big shaila of the day. Am I a huge bitch or he is acting really desperate?

Here's the situation:
After our sad and sorry conversation on Sunday where I played shrink (He asked me the absolutely off-limits question of a first phone call - why did you convert?. So, I shot back with an equally personal and probing question of my own that got him worked into such a frenzy I had to talk him down.), he called me Monday morning. I don't answer the phone during my morning writing block, so he left a voicemail. He called again Monday afternoon. Monday evening, I sent an email saying that I needed to sort through some details before we made plans to meet.

He called again yesterday - first my home phone, then my cell phone. I was in the bookstore and had my phone turned off. I did call him back when I was done, however. The whole conversation irritated me. He kepts suggesting places to meet and I kept saying "I know nothing about Boston. I have no idea where you're talking about." Finally, I asked him to pick a place and send me an email with the exact directions. He started exaplaining to me exactly how to get there. "Look,"I said, "I'm in the car and can't write anything down. I'll never remember what you're telling me!" He agreed to send an email. I closed the conversation as quickly as possible.

So, this has turned into a hishtadlus date. I'm going on a vacation that I have dreamed about for years and the first day has turned into a major stressor. Shit.

Am I just being cranky and issue-avoidant or am I right to be irritated by all this?