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The 15 Apps Every Woman Needs To Survive Middle Age

A girl can dream, can't she?

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Mengxin Li
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Yes, I know there are a lot of apps out there already. But would it really hurt to have a few more — ones that could REALLY help me in middle age? I can only wish for ….

Powers my phone via the heat surges coursing through my body from time to time.

With this app, I can type in my unending array of medical symptoms and receive the most benign diagnosis possible. In fact, 98 percent of the time, the app reads: “It’s not cancer, you’re just aging.”

This app senses when I am about to perform a technical task in front of younger people — anything from hooking up a laptop to returning an Amazon package — and hurriedly texts me crystal-clear directions about how to do so correctly without looking like a passé moron who needs help buying gas.

I don’t have time to keep track of every internet controversy or what we’re upset about this particular minute, but I also don’t like to be yelled at. This app sends a warning just before I post my innocent thoughts about how I enjoy a particular man’s artistic output.

It’s happening again: I’m expected to make conversation with my friend’s 11-year-old. I have already asked about school and commented that they take up more space physically than when last I saw them. Thank God for this app, which continually monitors the youth zeitgeist — something I have no interest in and no time to do — and spits out apropos topics of conversation.

Continually provides a definitive answer to the question, “Am I too old to pull this wardrobe item off?” NOTE: It just randomly flashes “yes” or “no,” but I feel better after checking.

How many times have I been asked to do something I absolutely would rather die than participate in — but end up doing so anyway because I couldn’t come up with a reason not to fast enough? This app solves that problem by generating a new, detailed yet believable excuse — “I’d love to but I’m scheduled to rotate all of my fermenting jars that evening”— that frees me every time.

It catalogues and synthesizes all the recipes I’ve read online and pinned this week, and then spits out the easiest common denominator recipe. Inevitably, this is toast with jam.

This app makes conversation with me about whatever show I am obsessed with but which none of my girlfriends are watching because there are now 8 million TV shows. Plus, it fakes interest in my complex theory of why the show is good in a way that my friends simply do not have the energy to do.

This Instagram extension pops up to reassure me whenever I catch myself envying someone’s beautiful home, helpfully mentioning how long it took to clean the pictured room, and how much other people were paid to do so, as well as how much those people still owe on their mortgage, and how old they’ll be when they pay it off.

Like Spotify but entirely composed of songs I used to hear on the radio in my childhood, it invokes an immediate nostalgic atmosphere. It’s perfect for creating a bubble of denial while commuting, wherein I am still 10, and Simon & Simon is on TV tonight.

Various attractive Hollywood stars pop up to assure me that my footwear, while sensible and orthopedically sound, is also still as hot as the heels I used to wear.

This app doesn’t just give a plot summary of a book but also succinctly sums up how it would change my perspective on life, thus freeing me from continuing to believe I am someday going to read Anna Karenina.

For moments when I’m feeling down while aging, this app keeps track of the amount of money I’ve saved on menstrual supplies since I stopped having a period regularly.

Sometimes I feel like thinking about my upcoming departure from this mortal coil. Sometimes I’d rather, well, not. Similar to the way Common Sense Media screens movies and TV for children, this app screens content for middle-aged folks. However, the only criterion is: Will this program make me anxious about death? NOTE: It just randomly flashes “yes” or “no,” but I feel better after checking.