The Upsides of Getting Stood Up

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Seven reasons why dating myself is a personal choice that I make as a pathway to enlightened self-love and not as a reaction to being single during a global pandemic or getting stood up by some jerk I didn’t even want to get to know or share intimacy with anyway, and certainly not because it’s the only option available or a sneaky way of semantically rebranding the truth which is that I am single during both menopause and a pandemic, which fact has to be dressed up a little to keep it from completely crushing what’s left of my soul and sanity right now.

1. I am fastidious. My apartment is squeaky clean because nothing activates my inner Donna Reed like the prospect of company.

Plus, I am free to watch whatever program or movie I like, pause to go to the bathroom every 10 minutes and talk back to the onscreen characters without commentary from a guest.

2. I’m an epicurean. The high-end takeout food and ice cream that was intended for sharing is aaaaaalllllll mine.

Plus, I lost a couple pounds over the last few weeks, so a binge-induced food coma is well overdue.

3. I am comfortable in my own skin. My hardest working but least comfortable bra still ended up tossed onto the floor, just in pursuit of jammies rather than passion. Same for the skinny jeans.

Plus, there’s no need to change the sheets for awhile (See item #1 above).

4. I am a feminist. I won’t have to shave my legs or underarms for the foreseeable future — though this silver lining gets a big assist from the onset of colder weather.

Plus, I finally have the chance to really test out how many days I can go without a shower.

5. I am independent. Since the jerk graciously didn’t show up, there’s no awkwardness over deciding whether they should stay the night or get dressed and leave in the wee hours. Same for next-day conversation over coffee while trying to mask morning breath.

Plus, I can actually get a good night’s sleep without a near stranger snoring through it like the insensitive jerk I’m sure they can’t help being.

6. I am a caregiver. I get to focus all my love and attention on my cat, who happens to be sick right now and really needs me even though he flinches at my approach and hides from me because I have to restrain him in a towel and squirt medicine down his throat twice a day.

Plus, searching for him, struggling to wrap him in the towel while avoiding his razor-like teeth and claws as much as possible, then squirting medications down his throat, then dressing my scratches and cooking home fresh bacon as an obvious guilt treat twice a day eats up a lot of time and energy, so I don’t really have any left over to funnel into a romantic relationship with some jerk who doesn’t deserve either.

7. I am an intellectual. My evenings and weekends have freed up, so I can focus on exploring all my newfound hobbies, like silently narrating long solitary walks in a perfect British accent that sounds alarmingly like Keira Knightly in a film version of a Jane Austen novel while pointedly staying at least six feet away from anyone with a pulse because right now everyone has the potential to be either a super-spreader of horrible germs or an inconsiderate jerk — and I honestly no longer know which is worse.

Plus, the luxury of hours and hours of free time affords me the opportunity to mull over exactly what I’m doing with my life and where it all went skidding out of my control.

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