Mark Darcy is right.

I hadn't had an evening this taxing since just before Christmas. As I rushed from computer to computer and phone to phone, grabbing up abandoned books and radioing for assistance at the information desk and dragging impatient customers to the end of their searches, I longed for the quiet comfort of my robe and slippies, a mimosa and eternally rewatched episodes of Arrested Development with my kitty on the couch.

Busy evenings don't usually bother me; but on this one each beep of the phone, every "Do you work here?" jarred me from intense contemplation and I found myself continually repressing a reactive grimace and eye roll whenever a customer flagged me down.

That morning I had received the emailed eHarmony newsletter, the only remnant of my brief foray into the world of online dating back in 2006. EHarmony had disenchanted me when its lobbied eight thousand compatibility matchup points only yielded me barely literate jocks -- my just desserts, I suppose, for having marked that I would rather hike than clean the bathroom. I let my subscription to the webservice lapse, but every month it faithfully sends me a newsletter with interesting tips on dating and relationships (including how to handle a one-night stand -- in that moment I decided that I was entirely justified in my dissatisfaction with the self-reported dedicatedly Christian program). As I scanned it briefly before relegating it to the trash bin, I saw an interview with Steve Harvey for his new book, Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man.

Fresh into my first real dating relationship (shhh), I found that, as a perfectionist by nature, I fought a constant state of nervousness over how to conduct myself. Was it all right to call him, or should I keep waiting for him to call me? If I called him, would I look needy? If I called him, would he lose interest because he no longer needed to pursue? If I didn't call him, would that send signals that he didn't need to pay attention to me? How long should I let a round of silence go before getting worried? What if I simply wanted to call him, just to talk? If I called him and it went to voicemail, what should I say? (All of these questions relate to the telephone because he lived three hours south of Erie, rendering slightly more Bridget Jonesian questions of midnight drive-bys to check whether or not he's home inapplicable.) What went on in his head? How should I interpret his behavior?

So at the bookstore that night I seized on Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man. I read it cover to cover in one night, deciding that I found it very educational, and mentally calculating as I went how well my relationship measured up to what Harvey said was good. The next night I bought Boundaries in Dating by Cloud and Townsend, to broaden my relationship education.

Gradually I found myself confused. Both books had what looked like excellent points; but at times those excellent points were at odds with each other, and I didn't know which to choose as the "right" point. As little yellow flags flashed along the way in my relationship, I started glancing at other titles in the self-help section as I straightened them during my evenings in the bookstore. Why Men Marry Bitches, How to Make Him Fall in Love with You in 90 Seconds or Less, What to Do When He Won't Commit, Men with Vulnerability Issues, it went on and on and on and on. I found myself panicking. Omigod. What next? I'm not a bitch. I'm nice. Does that mean he won't fall in love with me? Should I get meaner? He hasn't called in awhile. Is it because he's focused on his career, because he's just not that into me, or because he has vulnerability issues? Should I be patient? Should I assert myself more? Should I bail?

I started to really hate dating.

In one moment one evening as I held a stack of psychology and self-help relationship books in my arms and wondered how many other women were going through the same emotional psychosis and felt my terrors spinning around and taking all reason with them, I silently shrieked a desperate prayer, an old, familiar, often-used and simple one: HELP!!!

And suddenly snapped into a space of calm and peace and sarcasm and rationality. My inner voice, my real one, asked me, with a heavy sauce of irony, How many books are there? How many of them say different things? If these books actually worked there wouldn't be so many of them. Stop being neurotic.

Right. No more neurotic. In about a second I ran down the mental list of all the successful relationships I know, and started snickering. None of them succeeded because of one of these books. No one I've ever met has ever told me, "I met my husband/boyfriend/fiance because one of these books told me how to catch him and keep him"; the relationship just happened. Boy meets girl. It works out. Seems to be basically that simple.

So, having shed the previous relationship, I am free to try a new approach: Wing it and don't give a shit. (Linnéa says this should be our singles' Sunday school class motto.) I make excellent, solid, healthy and loving friendships without the help of a book, and in those friendships I feel perfectly free to be myself in all my range of emotions, strengths and weaknesses, successes and failures; and am always greatly interested in getting to know the other person. No worries, no pressure. Why should my approach to relationships be any different?

Besides, I enjoy being single. My return to it has refreshed me. For the first time in three months I was able to relax this weekend: Sleep, play with food, hang out with Simon, shower as late as I wanted, wear whatever I wanted. I can go out with a guy if I want, or not go out with him if I don't want. Marriage and family are in my cards, but not right now; I want to have fun dating, enjoy the fun of hanging out before commitment imposes more demands and requires harder work. (That stuff will all be worth it later on, of course; but I want a fun phase to look back on with a smile. I don't want it to be serious from the get-go.)

So...yay! This afternoon I'm going to try my hand at an elaborate Indian meal. I made paneer and thick yogurt last night, I have dried chickpeas soaking in a pan, and a host of interesting and fun ingredients waiting to be turned to something new and magical.

Goody!