It's the first week of March as I journey to Mahwah NJ for a quarterly meeting with my team, the Area Program Directors. Six of us cover the US and everyone's a director except me which has been and continues to be a bone of contention. Fortunately, Pure's 60-day Bikram Yoga Challenge is complete and my attachments to this issue are half of what they used to be.
Mom flew in Sunday following the kite festival where R and I ran into each other with our kids. Later that day we Facebook each other and while digitally curious to know more about him I suddenly feel anxious if not exposed. If you don't know me you might read my posts and conclude I'm cynical and jaded -- which I am -- but not as badly as it might seem without knowing my funny and sensitive sides too.
He offers to back away from Facebook, but indicates he's not judging me for my posts. Phew! Very happy to hear that actually. We remain friends and I casually drop news about a party next Saturday at the yoga studio. He seems interested and we agree to talk later in the week.
In Mahwah I hook up with Susan and Peggy Sue before dinner who want to know the latest in my dating world. As much as I feel frequently frustrated by work there is some comfort to be found in catching up with people I've known and worked with more than five years... even if it is to mostly gossip. The last time we were all together Starbucks dude from Dell was center stage. Latest report in February was that the not-yet-ex had hacked into his LinkedIn account and gone snooping through all of his contacts. She even looked at my profile which was more than a little unsettling. Oh, well. "Next," as we say, which brings me to R. I give them the 411 on my new friend and they in turn share the latest from their corners of the country.
We race through a ton of meetings with senior leadership on Wednesday and hear the latest updates on our mega huge advertising campaign kicking off in May from one of the product teams. Then it's off to the learning center to present to peers before heading off to happy hour at a new Irish pub off the turnpike and eventually back to our hotel for a late dinner.
I'd sent R a text earlier in the day but didn't receive one back. I call him after dinner as it's an hour earlier in Texas. His phone rolls to voicemail. Why didn't he answer, I wonder, and my mind starts doing that thing... that "over-thinking" thing. My skin begins to crawl and I feel anxious, wanting to call or text again but painfully aware that an action like that can look very uncool.
What's uncool in my dating life is more than cool in Corporate American. Where I work each employee goes through an assessment to discern their strengths called the Strengths Finder. It focuses on what a
person’s core strengths—rather than his or her challenges—say about the way that individual works
with people, influences others, and works harder and smarter. One of my top strengths is Activator which means I dot my i's and cross my t's. I get stuff done and if someone suggests a project or get together, I'm the person that says, "When and what are the next steps?" so it gets on the calendar.
I think this also explains my compulsive need to respond to phone calls and emails promptly. Rolling into my personal life this strength may at times be a debilitating nuisance, particularly in the romance arena. "Why didn't he call," I've uttered more times than I can count in my lifetime.
So I sit in my hotel room internalizing my non-returned phone call and text message. His lack of communication is killing me and my ego is still bruised from Mr. Starbucks. I am sensitive, anxious and probably in severe need of a prescription in this three-months-post-divorce-getting-back-in-the-dating-world scene. In the absence of a shrink and pharmacy I exercise the only control in my possession and reach for the delete key. In a nano second R is erased from my contacts and the delete folder in Outlook. There, body systems stabilizing, breathing rate returning to normal... I can go to bed and sleep soundly having released the uncertainty of whether or not he'll call. What matters most is that I cannot call or text him!
My team and I reconvene for a second day of meetings. Listening to yet another marketing professional pitch their wares to us, I glance at my phone set to silence mode. No calls and no text messages. Oh well, it's meant to be I tell myself.
At the end of the day we make our way to the bar where I order my usual Tanqueray and Tonic and wait for the limo to return me to Newark International. Susan regales us with her travel stories when I look to see a text from a phone number no longer in my contacts. To my thrilling surprise it's from R and I nearly jump with enthusiasm. "I've spent the day on the golf course and am gearing up for a night of poker with the guys. I really wish you were going to be here when I was done... although I'll be totally worthless after drinking all night." I laugh out loud. Just then another text that my car is waiting out front.
"Well, gang, I have to head to the airport. Great seeing all of you again," I say hurriedly as I scoot out from the booth to grab my suitcase. We exchange kisses and goodbyes and I'm gone. Rain falls lightly in northern New Jersey and the car pushes its way into rush hour traffic. With at least an hour drive ahead of me I open the text and call R.
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