Fair warning; There's no sex in this story. But it IS a story...

It all started a couple of years ago when my wife got a job as an analyst. (Again, no sex. The presence of "anal" in the word "analyst" is only a coincidence.) The twist was that she overestimated her Excel skills and underestimated the complexity of the industry she found herself in. So I (having decades of data analyst experience) spent close to four months giving her a crash course in Excel, SQL, PowerQuery, PowerBI, Tableau, and basic "how to think with data" skills.

It paid off. My wife is exceptionally intelligent. She soaks up skills and knowledge faster than anyone I know. So after a while, she was up to speed and wowing her co-workers and bosses with detailed and insightful spreadsheets, dashboards, and presentations.

The reason I'm writing all of this is that just a few minutes ago, she called me in to her office (she's working from home today) and said "I have a data story I want to run by you." That was already a turn-on: "data story" is a phrase I used when helping her get up to speed. Hearing it back sent a tiny frisson up my spine.

When I got there, she had a spreadsheet up on the big monitor. She looked really proud of it, and I could see why. The layout was perfect. There were individual sections grouping related data together. The color coding made sense. The flow from left to right demonstrated her start to finish thinking. And the formulas! She used the LAMBDA and LET functions, just like I showed her. She knew she was showing off, too. She kept lowering her glasses halfway down her nose, like some really sexy librarian.

Anyway, there were more tabs to that damn Excel file, and a Powerpoint that highlighted the most salient points. As she went through them, each one got me a little more hot and bothered. And why does anyone need to wear a thin white blouse when they're working from home on a day that's a holiday for the rest of the company? Who's she going to have a Zoom meeting with anyway?

By this point, I was like "holy shit, the way that one piece of hair got loose from where you stuck your pencil in it!" and had to tear my eyes away when I noticed that the top button of that nearly transparent blouse was undone. Plus, she'd kicked off her shoes and I loved the way her black tights sort of turned pink around her kneecaps and calves. If she hadn't had a deadline of having that analysis ready by the time everyone returned after New Year's, I'd have bent her over that desk and given her the best 5-minute break of her career.

But sadly, my hot data analyst had responsibilities, and so all I can do for now is wait the 23 minutes until 5PM and the end of her work day.