I wonder how many of us are walking around filled with rage and stress and we don’t even realize it because it has been slowing building for so long it just feels like our normal.
Like the frogs who don’t know they are boiling to death.
The past two years have been hard. The past two weeks have been especially hard.
Following the election I knew I was in a bad place but I didn’t realize I was sinking back into that same dark pit following the Kavanaugh allegations. It took other women on Twitter talking about how they were taking care of themselves during this time for me to even pause and think about it. Even then, when I asked, Sarah, do you need a break? I responded, Nah, I’m fine. I’m weathering this just fine.
Guys, you were right. You should never believe a woman when she say’s she is fine.
That same night I went home and poured myself a very large glass of wine and realized I had eaten the entire wedge of Brie the Friday before but that was no matter. I can order GrubHub again. That’s right. Again. And that is when I stopped myself. When did I start drinking bottles of wine on a Monday and ordering from GrubHub multiple times within a week. I thought I was past these bad habits.
Oh my gosh, am I eating and drinking my feelings.
So, I put my phone down and made myself a healthy (ish) omelette. I drank the wine (I mean it was already poured) and committed to returning to healthier ways to handle my stress. I sent Marie a text to see if she wanted to go to FlyWheel and then signed up for a bunch of other fitness classes for the week.
Which was great. But I was still stressed that night. And I didn’t want to drink another bottle of wine. And I was out of cheese. I suppose I could have just stopped checking Twitter but I was looking for a realistic solution to my problem that didn’t involve ordering a calzone.
And just like that, a solution presented itself. As I scrolled through the Twitter commentary on Kavanaugh’s Fox News appearance a Bumble alert popped on my phone letting me know 13 bees were buzzing to meet me (or some nonsense like that).
Yes, I still have the Bumble app on my phone. No, in the two months it has been on my phone I have had zero dates. I think I had one conversation progress off of the app. Yet, it seemed like a welcome distraction at the moment so I clicked on the banner, and it opened up the app.
Swiping left on that first guy felt so good I quickly swiped left again. And again. And again. I was rage swiping and it felt so good. I felt so powerful dismissing all these guys with just a flick of my thumb. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Hmmm. Nope.
Yes, yes, yes, I know not all guys. I also know a bunch of terrible white women (hi, Mom) support Kavanaugh and post stupid memes about how worried they are for their sons. But I don’t care. Rage swiping gave me the strength to go back to Twitter, read some more. And when I could take Twitter any longer, I double tapped the home button, switched back over to Bumble and rejected dudes until my heart rate slowed down.
It was so effective I only had one (big) glass of wine that night.