The pros to being single when you don’t necessarily want to be and have no one else to turn to who lives in the same state as you

“Congratulations! You have acquired one human body. This was a poor decision, but it is probably too late for you to do anything about it. Life, alas, has an extremely strict return policy.”

Matt from the book The Art of Starving

So, I have reached a crux and have decided to present you guys with a sort of juxtaposition as to how to soldier on. Before I get started, let me start with my problem besides the aforementioned. I cannot in good faith and with my best interest at heart, get into a serious relationship with a man. Men are the way my orientation swings and how I WISH that were not the case. I cannot put trust and my life in the hands of another, especially one who will lie to prevent me from cursing them out just so they have the opportunity to keep fucking me. Or because it’s “cheaper to keep her”, if you will. Mentally cheaper, I suppose. How am I supposed to hand over my direct deposits and my STD free status to some man? Riddle me that shit. I can’t, is the answer. Yet, I am human and, unfortunately, I can’t keep the human desires at bay. One the one hand I want companionship with a side of mouth-and –slight-tongue kissing. However, based upon my experiences kissing is never enough; not to last forever. I would take helping of head if I wouldn’t subsequently be asked for something in return. I know it’s selfish, I know. I can’t fall in with the full on asexuals b/c of the stuff I just described, but I can’t 100% say I’m a full-on sexual being because of the sex part. Saliva is not a great carrier of diseases so I feel much more comfortable and er, um, satisfied with the latter of the acts than I would feel with the Real Deal Holyfield. It causes me too much anxiety and I really just don’t like it. Who is going to be my lifelong companion with that rolling around my preferences box? Along with all my other unorthodox ideas about relationships? I can pretty much hang that shit up now. If you know of a way to stop the wanting part, please comment your answer/advice below.

On to the list now.

1. I never have to wait to watch a new episode of whatever tv show I love until someone else has the time to watch it, too.
   This has always seemed weird to me, anyway. I don’t encourage partnered tv show watching.
2. I don’t have to keep my room clean.
   I am the junkiest person this side of a hoarder and not being single requires that I keep things tidy. Puh. Not today, satan!
3. Similarly, I don’t have to wash and comb my hair as often.
   Trying not to be embarrassed about how insane I look means that I have to keep my hair tidy. My hair is an important part of my good looks and if my hair is shitty, I’m just shitty to look at. a. I don’t have to be aware of my face at all times. Not only do I have resting bitch face, but I also have THIS FACE.

I am dead ass serious. I have sent a juxtaposition (yes, this is over- and probably not even proper use at this point, but whatevs) pic of my face, caught unawares, unbeknownst to me, on a co-workers iPhone (fucking bastard), along with this and it has been confirmed by 3 other ppl that there is a striking resemblance. It is absolutely RIDICULOUS how stupid my face looks when I’m not constantly positioning it just so. My mother happened to worst of us kids, that’s for sure.

4. When my period is being wayward, as it is wont to do, I never have to worry.
Pregnancy scares are the muthafuckin’ worst when you aren’t planning on parenthood. Condoms are only 98% effective WHEN used properly. It would be just my dumb ass luck to be that unlucky, unfortunate daughter of an idiot, who would be that 2%.
5. Piggy backing off number 4, I don’t have to feel bad about this hysterectomy I’m jonesing to have at year's end.
You snooze, you lose, big boy. Shoulda caught me when I was young, dumb, and willing to be inseminated with cum.
6. I can read all the books I want.
Last time I had a boo I was so tired that I had to go to sleep immediately after washing a load of sheets and doing my hair so I could be spring chicken fresh when he arrived.

Separately, shit, I was supposed to make this a side-by-side comparison. Welp, I didn’t so pretend I didn’t write juxtaposition up there.

7. I can spend a shit load of time thinking about how terrible my body looks without actually doing anything about it.
This one is kind of a cheat because I spent a lot of time worrying how I look from the back, but I still didn’t work on it. He will deal… or not.

Seven seems like a fair number to stop on. Feel free to add to this list. Maybe there are some things that I’m missing out on.