A mere two weeks after placing my personals ad, I have burned out on dating.

Yesterday, in fact, I was so burned out, I had to call in sick to work. But it was only my soul that was sick. I went to Yoga, tried to become “indifferent.” When that didn’t work, I bought a gigantic piece of piece of cake, ate it in bed, and then promptly fell asleep for several hours (only to dream of throwing a glass of beer at Loser and missing).

The thing is, I have met only two personals boys in person. And the were nice. Sweet! Intelligent! Outdoorsy! I have a knack for meeting high-quality men through the personals. And then not being attracted to them.

My problem is, I try to be a friend to the whole wide world. I’ve responded to a mere quarter of the boys who’ve e-mailed me, but still – the correspondence is voluminous.

I want to give these boys the benefit of the doubt. But I know how it goes: I schedule them all in for coffee, and then they like me, and I like them, but only in a FRIENDS way, and then I have to tell them, and –

It’s exhausting.

I know, I know, a couple weeks ago, I was trying to make things happen, since CuteBoyCallBlock was activated on my phone and I didn’t know how to turn it off.

But now it’s unblocked. And half the men in Seattle are asking me out! (OK, that's an exaggeration. But I was cruelly cheated on and dumped two months ago, so I gotta brag about something!) Suddenly, I’m juggling the names of a dozen boys in my head, and on top of trying to hold down a job, a clean kitchen, my sanity, and I just can't do it.

On top of that, I have to keep their real names and their pseudonyms straight. There’s John (FreeandOpen), who loves Vegas and parties; Craig (Corio), who looks like Johnny Depp and doesn’t believe in “traditional” relationships; Henry (sfboy), who’s coming up for the weekend from S.F. and wants a fling; Brian (SnazzyShoes), who writes children’s plays but is kinda bald, Adam (Arrows andStars), a wine importer with a boyish grin...

And that’s just the personals guys. Then there are the ones I’ve met the "natural" way: in smoky bars, through friends, etc. Brad, the blonde mountain climber (ooohh, climbers), David, the politico from Memphis, Jake (aka Li’l Rockclimbing Boy, aka LRB, the 26-year old rockclimbing spy), Dr. S., the glib but good-looking pediatrician (who’s about to drop off the list since he hasn’t called, but ANYWAY)…

Even a Gemini like me can only handle this kind of volume for only so long. Once upon a time, in a different single life, I made a spreadsheet for my mom – to detail who was who among the men in my life. Now I need one for myself.

But fuck the spreadsheet. I can’t date all these guys; I can’t even be friends with all of them. Much as I hate to hurt feelings, much as I hate to close any doors when the room inside looks the least bit intriguing; if I keep going this way I’m headed for a nervous breakdown. In the immortal words of Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Breakup Babe needs to RELAX!