You're Working From Home, Stressed, and Want to Defeat the Coronavirus? Masturbate!

Illustration for article titled You're Working From Home, Stressed, and Want to Defeat the Coronavirus? Masturbate!
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In just the past 24 hours, the NBA suspended its season, the NCAA suspended most conference tournaments (and, by the time you read this, might have already postponed the NCAA tournament), countless schools and universities have shuttered their campuses, Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson revealed that they have the coronavirus, and we were collectively reminded, for the 17,000th time, that our country’s being led by a lazy and sociopathic thot. If this year, this week, this day, this hour has been too stressful for you, good! This just means you’re still sane.


Perhaps you’re also one of the millions of Americans who’ve either been encouraged (or forced) to work from home or are just privileged enough to do it. If this is you, welcome! I haven’t worked in an office since 2009. And while this dynamic has some very real downsides: it can get lonely, motivation can dip and wane, and all the money spent on food and drinks while working in coffee shops and co-working spaces sneaks up on you—the good outweighs the bad. (Also, if you’re working from home because of the virus, you should actually be home and not at Starbucks.)

Some of these good things are built-in stress relievers that working from home provides. When your Twitter feed becomes too triggering, and the TV news too unnerving for you to focus on work, you can shut everything down for a bit and take a nice walk. Or maybe take a quick nap. You could even find some space in your home to do some pushups and lounges.

Or, better yet, do none of those things; take a 30-minute break and just masturbate.

I know, I know, I know. Masturbation seems, um, counterintuitive in the face of a global pandemic. But this is actually the best time to do it. All this social distancing we’re expected to do now is prime masturbation breeding ground. Can’t touch you? Fine! Guess who I can touch? And what other stress-reliving activities are as satisfying while also being completely safe and sterile? That was a rhetorical-ish question, but I’ll answer it anyway. None!

And yeah, daylight masturbation is awkward for some people. It’s one thing to rub one out when you’re home alone and the night enhances the mood, but trying to do that while squirrels and shit are out and UPS trucks are beeping can be disconcerting. And maybe you fear that, since the sun is out, Jesus is looking directly at you. But this is why you invest in good blinds.

That said, as a daylight masturbation maven, I should warn you that there are some safety measures you should take before partaking. First, of course, is that you should be aware of exactly how long you’re going to be home alone. Getting caught is always awkward, because...well, it just is. But even worse is suspended masturbation, which is what happens when you’re almost there—but stop because you sense someone coming home. And then, for the next five hours, you’re just waiting for them to leave so you can finish. I’d rather watch Joker again than do that.


Also, if you require the assistance of the Internet to get you in the mood, you probably shouldn’t browse your favorite websites from a work-assigned laptop. If fact, it would be prudent to not do that while on any computer you also work on. Backup laptops are preferred. But phones, imaginations, the Hallmark Channel, and J.Crew catalogs can work in a pinch, too.

Let’s take it a step further. Imagine, for a second, that frequent masturbation was a federal mandate. So instead of hitting the gym or going to see The Invisible Man or having a game night, everyone just stayed in the house and masturbated for the next two weeks. Remember how Jersey Shore had Gym, Tan, Laundry? We should enact Work, Jerk, Sleep. I don’t know shit about science, but I’m sure the virus would be gone in a month, and there’d finally be a use for all that toilet paper you’ve been hoarding. Just consider it.

Damon Young is the editor-in-chief of VSB, a contributing opinion writer for The New York Times, and the author of What Doesn't Kill You Makes You Blacker (Ecco/HarperCollins)



First coronavirus, now blindness.