Are you a micro-cheat? 9 ways we're unfaithful to ourselves every day
We are not 100 per cent honest with ourselves now, are we? We kid ourselves left, right and centre. We pretend to be straight-up and straightforward but we tend to leave ourselves wriggle room. Otherwise, how would we breathe?
It has a name: micro-cheating. And it has become a buzz-phrase for not actually shagging someone behind your partner’s back – but thinking about it, maybe? Or creating insurance policies, like leaving your profile up on Tinder or posting super-sexy advertising selfies so that, should you choose to cheat, it’ll be just a hop, skip and a jump into infidelity.
Perhaps it’s micro-cheating to think about someone else during sex (in which case, we’re all sunk) or to repeatedly book the same twinkly window cleaner. God forbid you should send the wrong emoji at the end of a text. (Google what the aubergine one means…)
What if you’ve told someone, ‘If I were single, I’d…’ or been more pleased to see a crush walk into a room than your partner? Well. Let hellfire rain down about your ears… Sex aside, we micro-cheat all the time because it’s just easier. Easier than constant vigilance. The straight and narrow just sometimes feels a bit… narrow. So we cook the books of life a little. No one likes to think of themselves as a cheat, but what about:
Exercise
Gym kit on. Out in cold morning air. Get to gym. Walk around gym. Stretch. Get green juice. Shower. Amazing what moving your body does for your mood. Aim to do this three times a week. Have jeans shrunk?
Numbers
Round ’em up, round ’em down. Up when referring to how much money saved in sale. Down when referring to how much money spent in sale. Input into new money app to help us save for Galápagos. Brilliant financial planning. Surely Galápagos only round corner…
SPF
Well, it says there’s Factor 15 in that tinted moisturiser so that will be perfectly robust enough for full day on beach (in Galápagos? Probably not. See above) roasting self. ‘Forgot’ to reapply. Marvellous tan. Apart from the peeling and the pigmentation and that suspicious-looking mole. Oh God.
Calories
Hmmm. So, let’s do the maths. (Glances at back of packaging through narrowed eyes.) This is 148 calories per 100g and the whole packet is 360g, so that’s 300 calories. Give or take. Fine!
Work
I mean we worked solidly from 8am to 8pm. We barely looked up from our screens. We should be paid overtime because this is basically slave labour and should not be allowed.
Yes, we paid every bill, bought half of Amazon, made dentist and facial and osteopath appointments, booked plumber, stayed fully and firmly and forcefully abreast of Instagram and Twitter and Facebook, thoroughly researched Galápagos, ordered stuff for Easter egg hunt, arranged for personalised birthday present, made lists of restaurants we want to try, investigated which vacuum cleaner should replace knackered one, looked into new car (money app will obviously facilitate this), filled shopping basket on Matchesfashion.com, had text fight with mother and text flirt with twinkly window cleaner...
But slave labour. Should probably sue.
Booze
Dry January was so excellent that we’ll be doing Dry 2018. Apart from weekends. And evenings. And only two units a night. A pint of wine is one unit you know. La la la la.
Smoking
Never buy them? Never light them? Never shy away from asking for a puff and keeping hold of the fag until there’s no point giving it back but give it back anyway? Clearly, we never smoke.
Spring cleaning
Flip mattress. Collapse on mattress exhausted. Snooze. Wake up and congratulate self on newly hygienic house and life. Honestly feel spiritually renewed. Remarkable.
Meditation
I absolutely was not asleep.
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