|Blogs > xxshort_storyxx > Diary of a Dry Spell|
I forget that dating is of such a feast-or-famine nature. Here I am having not gotten laid in six months, and practically the moment I do, dick is coming out of the woodwork. Indeed, this is the flood that follows the draught.
And so a new roster has been born. Ah, the roster, a unique phase in life when you are so "on," so irresistible to everyone you meet, that the number of men you have slept with, men you want to sleep with, and men you think you may sleep with grows to ridiculous proportions. As much of a dork as this makes me, I'm thinking of using Excel to manage mine. It would be so useful to sort on "hot."