But problems are hard to identify and even harder to do something about. A day later, a friend had a gala afterparty and we stayed until all the men had gone, until morning joggers were tying up their laces, until moms were struggling with huge clunky strollers, and there was the click and the rush of bubbles as my flatmates turned on the kettle to make coffee. I got into bed thinking about all the things I needed to do the next day that would not be getting done, and all the opportunities that slipped through my hands. And I felt annoyed at myself, but also that if put in the same position again, I would never have picked anything different. And when I’d given up on sleeping, I opened up Hinge.
Some guy replied to my prompt :“One thing you should know about me is… I single handedly engineered the vaccine.”
He asked to hear the backstory, I assume sarcastically. I replied: “The secret ingredient starts with 5 and ends with G, that’s all you’re getting.”
“Ah, nice,” he said, and again, I assume sarcastically, added: “A fellow anti-vaxxer.”
“No Pfizer in these veins,” I told him, lying.
He asked if I had any evening plans and if not did I want to join him and some of his friends as they burned down some 5G towers?
“I’m around from six?” I said, and just like that I put my other face on, one that talks less, and flirts better, that only comes out when I’m looking at a screen.