Corona Chronicles 29.04. 2020
Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!
Being eaten by a wild animal is a legitimate fear, and so is having a fear of spiders, snakes, heights, bad guys, and the Corona Virus.
My biggest fear is hands down being alone forever. A fear that has obviously been exasperated by the global pandemic, social isolation, and an innate desire to have a quarantine counterpart.
To make matters worse, it seems like the media has been raising more awareness than usual about single people, with messages to the community such as, “don’t forget to reach out to your single friends’ folks, it’s such a dark time and these people are sad and lonely and are at risk of depression and suicide because their lives suck.” Which gets me diving into an even deeper abyss of self-pity and thinking, dang, they’re right, maybe I SHOULD be really depressed?
In case you thought this post was taking a dark turn, don’t worry, I’m not depressed. Well I mean, I think we’re all probably a little depressed, but no more than usual lol.
According to social constructs, single = bad, couple = good. You’re not supposed to be single. Are you single? Why? You need to get out there more!
If you’re single, you’re unfinished business. Life has not truly started yet.
I’m not writing this to garner sympathy, I promise. Being alone is a choice, well…kind of. It’s a choice that also comes with a stigma. From a broad societal point of view, there is something wrong with being a single female in her 30’s. Something must be “wrong” with me, right? I literally only have one single friend, ONLY ONE (and a couple that are maybe like half single).
I live knowing that people make assumptions about why I’m single; they think maybe I’m damaged, crazy, emotionally unstable, closed off, clingy, or that I’m “too picky.”
Yo, just because I won’t date a guy that wears Vibram toe shoes, white Oakley sunglasses, baggy cargo pants, a wallet chain, a super bent rimmed hat, hiking boots as casual footwear, has poor grammar, ties his shoes too tight, drinks and parties too often, owns a tiger sanctuary, or kisses like a dead fish with an open empty mouth hole…does not mean I’m picky.
I’ve also dated a couple of gems, in which case I feel like for whatever reason the timing was off, or I wasn’t ready or, who knows—all I know is that quarantine has me reflecting on if I fucked up.
I’m not even exaggerating when I say that 90% of the conversations I have with dudes start with: “So what’s wrong with you?” “Why are you still single?” “Are you crazy?”
In which case I start to question everything about myself and wonder, what IS wrong with me? Am I fucking crazy? I must be! It’s like I’m being gaslit by strangers on the internet.
I mean, I know I’m a little type-A obsessive-compulsive, not very fun, extremely average looking, and have a resting bitch face that screams don’t talk to me, but Carol fucking Baskin found love, it’s got to be possible?
Anyway, being single has its ups and downs, and there are plenty of positives to being single as well. I’m sure there are tons of struggling parents out there who are about ready to poke their eyes out wishing they were single right now. This pandemic is no easier for parents, work from home couples, or essential service workers. But watching adorable couples make TikToks, binge Netflix, walk their dog a million times, exercise in random parking lots, take edibles and make pasta together has me wishing for a partner in crime that doesn’t just bite my kneecaps and fuck with the toilet paper.
With each passing week in isolation, I feel like my eggs are getting older and my face is getting rougher. Not only will I have missed an entire year of being out on the town with my dongles on (weird inside joke about binoculars that scan for single men), but I will emerge from this mess a hideous swamp creature with 19 extra pounds. I can already see my 75-year-old self living alone in some one-bedroom apartment surrounded by cats and making sure I still get my daily workout in. It’s a frightening reality.
My only hope at this point is that this quarantine will have a negative effect on couples and there will be a new crop of non-cargo pant wearing divorces on the market.
Today I learned how to make a french omelette. I mean, I watched a video on how to do it because I want to know how, but I haven’t attempted yet.
Today I’m grateful for friends that listen to the news and check-in on their sad single friend regularly.
Today my irritational fear is…well, all of the above.