They Call Me The Spindoctor

I GOTS ME A GROWN-UP JOB!! Yes kids, I'll be running PR and Marketing for a software company in Totowa starting in about a week. Now that I'm returning to gainful employment maybe I'll obsess less about my personal life...wait, have I met me? Of course I won't obsess less!

As a follow-up to my recent freak-out: I didn't fuck it up at all. As we all know when we're sane (you see the problem already), part and parcel of obsession is that we come up with worst case scenarios and send ourselves into this insane spin-out that involves tears, palpitations, unreasonable fears and over-reactions. What's the pay-off? When everything turns out OK it just feels so damn good. I recognize my psychotic tendencies folks and have managed to keep the external manifestations to the "loveably crazy" level.

The long and short is this: we talked, everyone is ok and we're still spending a lot of time together - alone and with the crew. The sex issue remains unresolved, which, being the deeply disturbed person I am, I have decided has to do with some deep-seated psychological issue of the NB's. Samantha, if you're reading this, I think both the NB and I are fodder for your incisive psychological analysis. Artwork can be provided to reinforce your conclusions.

So, basically everyone is doing fine....except, of course, that the California job is still an issue. His face-to-face is in 2 weeks. We talked about it the other night and he came out with, "All I'll have to do is get you to move out there." This was followed by further suggestion that if I don't move to Cali that he'd buy his apartment and I could live in it. Bizarre! The man who can't decide from minute to minute whether he's my boyfriend or not wants me to move across the fucking country with him. As further proof that he's insane and conflicted, I receive an email as part of an ongoing conversation that reads:

"You are an awesome friend of mine, I can talk to you for hours. I’m just not boyfriend material, trust me on that. (no I’m not in the closet)"

Later that evening, at his apartment, after we hang a painting and spackle (yup, we're a fun-loving couple!) and he's all sweaty he goes to hug me and realizes that he reaks...his comment? "Sweetpea, you have a very stinky boyfriend." Buddy, are you a B or an NB??? Let's get real here: there are 2 differences between the relationship we're having now and us being boyfriend-girlfriend:

1. Sex - we're not having any... hear BF-GF's do.
2. Using the terms "boyfriend" and "girlfriend"

Other than that - we're there. We do stupid housework together, spend a ton of time together, I am "dear", "darling", "sweetheart" or "sweetpea" (I can't remember the last time the man used my name) and he is, fairly uniformly "honey" with an occasional occurence of "sweetie", I wash dishes, schedule haircuts, run errands, make the bed. We are invited to events as a couple. Each of us is frequently asked to convince the other of something. If one arrives somewhere without the other they are immediately asked their whereabouts or when they will be arriving. Denial is not just a river in Egypt baby!

Now, to quote Forrest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that." For now at least.