Nothing worse than too late

This is Liesl Schillinger at The Daily Beast, on Lori Gottlieb's noxious-sounding new book Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough:

Gottlieb moans about the misery of the sad, pathetic single woman, stuck at home with Netflix. But what of the misery of the sad, pathetic, partnered woman, stuck at home with a somnolent spouse or boyfriend who sits around watching TV and eating Chunky soup and won’t let her play her Netflix? What of the un-sad, un-pathetic single women who go to concerts, plays, films and parties, carouse with friends, date, travel, work out, dance, take classes, produce valuable work, and, generally, live life as if they were not coma patients? This is not to say that Gottlieb isn’t correct to assert that some single women are lonely (just as some single men are). This is merely to point out that a human being bears a certain amount of responsibility for his or her own entertainment; and that having a partner is no guarantee of a roaring good time or of a rich emotional life.

I also hesitate to mention—lest I be considered forthright and unladylike and therefore permanently unmarriageable—that I know plenty of married folks whose lives are far lonelier than mine. Have you never seen the film Far from Heaven? Or Lady and the Tramp? Those are some lonely people! Anyhow, loneliness isn't endemic in single people, it's endemic in humanity, and if you're dumb enough to tack your life onto someone else's because you want NEVER TO BE LONELY AGAIN, you deserve exactly what you get.

And I prefer to bolster my personal lifestyle choices to the stylings of Charles Bukowski:

there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late.