He's Just Not That Into You

The next few days are busy.

I make myself busy.

I prepare from my interview. Outfit and research and well rehearsed accomplishments, oh my.

I walk 20 miles. Why sit on my ass when there are muscles to tone and calories to burn and a soul to be healed?

I talk to Joy. She is less discouraged than me about the whole John thing. She tells me to clean up my Facebook page. Yes, I am easy to find and yes, it still appears to those who don't know me that Scott might be my boyfriend. I need to go in and untag myself. Oh goodie, administrivia. The Ghosts of Boyfriends Past will not leave me alone. Her advice is to be patient and give him a chance.

I perfect my plans for going from interview to party with a Superman-esque outfit change. I perfect the green dress look, too. Evidently the underwear choice is almost as important as the shoes.

The interview is just "meh." Just a job, and the interviewer acted all squirrely after having been interrupted by her boss and "fleeing the interview" as they say in the movie Fargo. She had to leave for at least 15 minutes and I fidgeted in solitude until her return, secretly hoping she was being fired wherever she was. And then all I could think of was the pregnant detective in Fargo. She kind of looked like her. Except she wasn't pregnant. And didn't wave a badge around.

I look fabulous for the party. Even by my own standards. The lime dress is a big hit. I remember that I'd forgotten to send a photo to Joy for her approval. I make sure I post a beautiful shot of me in the dress on the museum steps with the moon in the background so she can see it. And John, too, if he really has stalked me on FB. And Craig if he's on line. Couldn't hurt to be seen by the entire FB world in a stunning dress, with tanned and toned legs in a pair of sexy heels.

Socially, the party is good thing. I meet a lot of people. I have a lot of fun. I try some great food and some delicious drinks. I meet no one in the romance department but I make a strong appearance. And it's the loose connections that get you somewhere. It is the loose connection that lands the job or gets you introduced to the handsome brother or helps you find a veterinarian that doesn't object to declawing your cats. It's all valuable.

Craig is attentive. Comments to me privately about the dress being va-va-va-voom. That alone is worth having gone dateless.

But over the next few days, John continues to be elusive. Against my better judgement, I send him a quick text. Casual, asking if he's given any thought to getting together. He doesn't know this but I am running out of days that I can see him. My kids return soon and I need to make some plans with him or make plans without His Royal Lameness. I don't want to appear to have nothing to do but I do want to appear interested, incase he was thrown off by photos of Scott.

He makes another excuse. Says he forgot that he owes his wife a few nights that he'd borrowed from her and will have his kids. I am sure it's an excuse. No man is this wishy-washy with his ex-wife. And no one forgets their schedule. Especially if they are excited to make plans with someone else soon and have to see when that might be possible.

So I have my message. It is loud if not perfectly clear. He's just not that into me.