Kate Beckinsale has a new boyfriend, and I'm indignant.
Not because he's 22 and she's 46 - whatever you're having yourself, Kate. But how come she's getting it, while the rest of us have to Armageddon it? How do you nail a new "love interest" in a lockdown?
Day 40 of our new lives as hermits, and the sexual frustration is at its peak for those isolating solo. No disrespect intended, but even for others who are in lockdown with a partner, the concept of sexual freedom is over: it's either grinding monogamy or nothing.
So I can't comprehend these stories of celebs hooking up with new fellas in the midst of a virus: are the rules different for them? Some of us haven't had sex in six weeks and are losing our minds.
Remember the snobby sneering at 'incels' - the involuntary celibates? Well, we're all incels now.
It's understandable how the denial of this basic human need causes an ache that makes people sad, angry and resentful. Sex makes us happy.
At first, I figured I was doing well with the whole social aspect of the crisis. Who'd have thought my saddo non-social life of the past decade would come in so handy?
I was used to long spells of nights in; like Lady Grantham in 'Downtown Abbey', I've been known to ask: "What is a weekend?"
Yet still, nothing has ever put a stop to my gallivanting before. I came of age in the liberated 1990s - era of Madonna and 'Sex and the City' - and even the abject terror of the HIV pandemic only curtailed our activity, it did not deprive us of it entirely. For a certain cohort, this is the longest dry spell since becoming sexually active.
Social distancing, quarantining, incubation periods, asymptomatic cases: all neutralise the potential for passion.
I don't pine for the days of air travel as much as I do for those of untrammelled desire. Of seduction, chance meetings, dirty dancing, secret rendezvous and romantic breaks. It's the best thing about life. It must be a torture of its own for young singletons in their 20s.
The cruel irony is the whole nature of the situation has sent libidos sky high. Tell people something is illicit and the transgressive element only adds to its appeal. It's the forbidden fruit effect.
Anticipation is another aphrodisiac: so being forced to wait lends a thrill of Victorian repression that charges the atmosphere when everyone has sex on the brain.
This is an existential crisis, and basic instincts kick in when the survival of the species is threatened. It feels like the apocalypse, and when the world's about to end, the urge is to get mating.
There's a science behind it. Psychological evidence shows sex drives increase at times when coping with tragedy becomes part of the everyday experience.
Many of us, when facing death, feel the fleetingness of our time on Earth, and sex can be life-affirming. Grief is a loss of closeness, of intimacy, and our libido seeks to fill the void. We fear being alone and are seeking the ultimate human connection through physical love.
It's a stress-reliever, a self-esteem booster, releasing positive endorphins that reduce the pain and have a calming effect. It serves as a distraction, and increases sensations of safety and control. It's a physical release and a form of escapism.
When death is all around, it's the way to make you feel most alive. Right now - at a time when we must flee from others for survival - our minds and bodies crave a spontaneous roll in the hay, an enthusiastic exchange of bodily fluids.
As a wise man - ok, The Bloodhound Gang - once said: "You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel."
Or as Freud theorised: sex is the main motivator of all thoughts, emotions and behaviours.
Is it any wonder then, when it's taken away, we're driven to distraction?
How incredibly fortunate were we before this? And yet, at the height of our sexual abandon, there was an orchestrated push to pathologise lust in the years leading up to coronavirus.
It seems shamefully outdated now, and weird and ungrateful.
This emergency has given us a new appreciation for the liberty we previously enjoyed; and we will embrace it with fresh enthusiasm once we get out the other side of this.
I reckon we'll enter a new era of free love and sex positivity, post-Covid-19.
There will follow a time of hedonism: much like the Roaring Twenties after the Spanish flu a century ago.
Having been denied the pleasure for so long, we'll be like pent-up prisoners released from the cell of celibacy, and ready to let rip. Carpe diem.