10 Fears All People Who Live Alone Completely Obsess Over

You're an independent, responsible adult. You're healthy. You have your shit together. You buy lots of broccoli and other green things because you hear that's what keeps people alive. The problem is, you're on a new age-y health kick and you bought way too much. 

You are now responsible for all this kale. You really shouldn't go out on that Tinder date, even if he does want to take you to that new tapas place. You knew when you bought the food that you weren't going to finish it all. And so you throw out half of what you purchased every.damn.time. 

Shameful. 

Your apartment may be a complete pigsty, but even if it's not, at some point you're going to encounter some unwanted visitors. I don't mean Mormon elders at your door on a hungover Sunday. I'm talking about bugs.

Dealing with the worst of the insect world is an occupational hazard of human life on Earth. Unless you want to spend the night cuddling with that spider currently climbing up your bedroom wall, you're going to have to become an impromptu exterminator. The good news is, literally anything around you can become a weapon. Go grab your Swiffer and some hairspray and guide the little shit into the afterlife. 

You met that guy from Tinder and things went better than expected: Turns out he wasn't catfishing you AND you didn't die. Congrats, girl! You head back to your place for a little tipsy Netflix and chill, but you're already all over each other before you even open your front door.

Of course, your neighbor can hear you fumbling around, so she pops her head out to watch, like the nosy, sex-starved voyeur she is. Super awkward. Don't judge me, Myrtle! 

You learned your lesson. After a successful drunk evening, you took your sexcapades over to his place. Now, you've snuck out bright and early to head back to yours. You're feeling great—aside from the hangover, heel blisters and last night's makeup drying out your skin. 

But of course, you get home at the exact moment your neighbor is returning from Sunday service. Myrtle here knows that your bandage dress and studded clutch are not exactly church attire. Her eyes accuse you of spending the early morning taking the lord's name in vain—and worse.

Living alone can be seriously spooky. You see one trailer for a horror movie featuring some disturbed children singing and you're fucked for the rest of the night. 

You break out the sage smudge stick your hippie aunt sent you, open all the windows and attempt to exorcize those demons. But since you're still unsure about whether or not something paranormal plans to inhabit your body right when you fall asleep, you turn on a Disney movie to keep you safe. 

You rush through most mornings in a half-asleep daze, but nothing wakes you up more than the panicked realization that you may have left the stove on. You don't have a roommate or a live-in lover who can make sure you unplugged and turned off all the potential fire-starters in your apartment before you left. What if you come back and the entire building is engulfed in flames? And it's ALL YOUR FAULT?!

Popping Peanut M&Ms in your mouth while scrolling through your Twitter feed is all fun and games until Kanye starts another rant. What are you supposed to do when that candy-coated chocolate lodges in your throat mid-guffaw? Do you know how to perform the solo Heimlich maneuver? Because I sure AF don't. 

You've had your fun belting out Beyoncé and trying out your new Lush body wash. Now here comes the risky part. While you've always managed to catch yourself before getting hopelessly tangled up in your shower curtain and suffering a fatal head injury on the side of the tub, you're entirely too aware of this ever-present danger. 

The thought of having your bleeding, naked, cold body picked up off the ground by your Romanian landlord when he FINALLY finds you is terrifying enough to make you install a granny handrail in there ASAP. 

When you're a girl who lives alone, your level of paranoia increases by a million. Thanks to your mom's constant entreaties to "Be safe," and ya know, this patriarchal society we live in, it's hard not to think that some creep out there is looking to skin you and wear you as a coat.  

What if you get out of the shower and some killer in a mask is just hanging out in your bed waiting to chop you up into little pieces? Who will find your body?! I don't have a solution for you here. Run, scream, clobber him over the head with your Diane Arbus coffee table book—just be prepared. 

Despite all this, living alone can be great. You can lounge in your underwear all day and watch the world's trashiest reality shows and nobody can judge you! But what happens when you're considering *gasp* shacking up with someone again? 

Will your future spouse be banished to the pool house because you just CAN'T deal with other people in your space anymore? THIS is how you become a cat lady. 

Damn, being an independent woman is rough.