Who You Know by Theresa Alan Page B

dollars, money I was going to use for groceries, and I found out the next morning he’d spent every dollar of it, one dollar bill at a time, stuffing it into a stripper’s G-string. Boy, was I pissed. But it all worked out in the end ’cuz without any food in the house, I lost three pounds!
    These days though, I was so over wanting to be the strong one in a relationship. I wanted a man to take care of me. This nurturing crap was overrated.
    The only way I was going to get over him was if I found someone else. What the hell was Tom’s problem? He wasn’t dating anyone, and I was easily the cutest single girl at work.
    I got a piece of paper and titled it “Strategies to get Tom to fall in lust with me.” I considered a moment, then scratched out “lust” and wrote above it “love.” It wasn’t easy to strategize after half a bottle of wine, but I came up with (1) be beautiful (easy), (2) be funny and sincere (no sweat), (3) be patient and demure. Let him come to you. (Fie! Who’s got time for patience? I don’t want to be one of those old biddies that has to have a kid with the help of medical science at the age of sixty-two!)
    What if I was over my prime and no man would ever look at me again?
    This was stupid, making myself cry. It was the wine. You know what they say, “Poor me, poor me, pour me another drink.”
    What if I didn’t meet anyone good enough to marry? The kind of guy who, if I came down with some hideous disease, would love me enough to stick with me till the end, no matter how gnarled and useless my body became.
    Dave wasn’t that guy. So why did I miss him so much?

RETTE
    The Itinerary
    8: 59 A.M. Consider getting out of bed. Opt to stay in bed and stare at ceiling. Think about eating potato chips and French onion dip.
    9:41 Get out of bed. Pour bowl of Raisin Bran. Feel righteous for not eating chips and dip. Notice that the phone does not ring with job offer. Flip through classifieds. Get depressed.
    10:02 Change into sports bra, shorts, and gym shoes. Do fifty sit-ups and twenty sets of leg lifts. Get hungry. Determine that Raisin Bran did not provide enough energy to enable rigorous workout.
    10:31 Snack on carrot sticks. Feel deprived. Notice how carrot sticks do not taste like pizza or a burrito or ice cream or brownies or a Snicker’s, yet despite all this suffering the body persists on being frumpy and lumpy. Notice that phone has still not rung with job offer.
    10:40 Turn on TV. Do not drink coffee, though want to desperately. Remind self that cantankerous stomach is a sign to take better care of self.
    10:45 Become bored out of mind with soap opera. Hate all the commercials for brownie mix, fried chicken, Taco Bell, and candy bars. Continue to crave chips and dip.
    10:49 Put step aerobic tape into VCR.
    10:51 Cramp up. Pause video. Decide to finish when carrots are more fully digested.
    11:02 Flip through want ads.
    11:04 Become discouraged. Call Avery. Get answering machine.
    11:05 Attempt to push chips and dip out of mind. Be unsuccessful.
    11:06 Decide to eat lunch now and finish workout in an hour. Eat a salad and an apple. Use ranch dressing with all the fat because of new scientific evidence that says low-fat products are actually worse for you. Feel righteous for not eating a Whopper with cheese and fries with a chocolate milkshake.
    11:26 Decide day has proven exhausting. Take nap. Feel certain things will be different after a good rest. Secretly hope a phone call for a job offer will disturb slumber.
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    T he phone did finally wake me up, but not, sadly, with a job offer. It was just Avery, inviting me downstairs. She wanted to see how my interview had gone the day before.
    I went downstairs and knocked on her door. I couldn’t wait to come back home and check messages.
    â€œYou’re just in time. I’m baking scones,” Avery said. I followed her as she led the way to the kitchen. “Work