Swiping on the Apps While Having Diarrhea

As a good capitalist worker, I think a lot about productivity, multitasking, and how to batch things I don’t like doing. With my organizational powers, I’ve developed a system for swiping and managing the dating apps that works for me over time. A large part of this system revolves around swiping all at once to get the matches and then bulk messaging the same opening message at once, later on.

Sometimes, I take these productivity hacks too far. Currently my schedule is to message and initiate matches in the morning. And this morning, I have diarrhea. So here I am, on the toilet, messaging men I want to date or have sex with while shitting my brains out.

It’s not unusual for married friends to be jealous of my single life. I don’t have to share my bed - I can spread all the way out. I don’t have to compromise on who does the dishes (though, to be fair, it’s always me who does the dishes). I don’t have to wait for someone to watch my favorite tv show. And I don’t have to spend my valuable time with someone else’s friends. My life and my time are my own.

But sometimes you don’t sleep well or you’re sick or you had a shit day, and it would be nice to have someone there to put an arm around you or bring you some soup or tuck you in. Or at least make sure you don’t run out of toilet paper. Instead, I’m tossing and turning without sympathy, hugging the toilet alone, and having to figure out how to comfort myself. And sometimes I’m swiping right while having diarrhea. So please think about that the next time you’re jealous.

I had a few friends, all couples of course, who were a little myopic on this point in the early days on the pandemic. We all had our own struggles - I can’t imagine being trapped inside my house with multiple small children and no childcare. Or someone who I wanted to divorce. Or… anyone really. Because I was alone. Completely alone. For a long, long time. I saw and spoke with and touched other people an average of 3-4 hours a week for the first seven months of the pandemic. Rarely was it more than that. Yes there was Zoom and FaceTime. But we know that’s not the same thing. It certainly doesn’t replace being touched, being hugged, having this physically-present support system.

I’m still reflecting on how the pandemic changed my context as a single person. I’m not sure any of us have fully grappled with the mental health effects of it, individually or as a society. One thing is for sure, though: it’s made me wary of anyone who spends time lusting for the supposed greener grass on the other side of the fence. You have no idea how crippling loneliness is. I’m not convinced most coupled people could handle what that was like for those of us who were alone.

So be grateful and keep the Pepto close by.