April, for me, is usually the beacon of hope and new beginnings, the epitome of springtime, and (less importantly) my birth month.
I'll be 27 this year, and I used to make the morbid joke about joining the 27 club (hits a little too close to home to be funny to me anymore).
I had all these plans laid out on how I would spend this monumental (to me) birthday (I love musicians). Most of it consisted of a trip to the local art museum alone, where I can take as much time as I want reading every little plaque and not feeling like I am burdensome to my artist friend and/or Bumble date who reminds me that he did not pick this as his date choice, getting my annual "birthday doughnut" at the local doughnut shop, and then a walk around a park somewhere, maybe stopping to read a book or take photos on my Pentax film camera, mostly envisioning myself inside of some indie romcom, bangs and funky earrings and quirky tote bag and all. It would've been even better if it were overcast, or with a light misty rain (I am a sadboi).
My pie-in-the-sky dream for this year was to take a trip to the PNW (which is sadly the last place I'd want to be during this pandemic). Where I would drink good coffee, drink good tea, drink good kombucha, buy a bunch of good edibles, finally get a cartridge for my pen (this is all incriminating, isn't it?), and wear my soft linen clothes and birkenstocks and not feel like I am cosplaying as an adult homeschooled person (which I am anyways).
I had briefly considered running away to Montana to live with my one cousin that I still kind of relate to, meanwhile buying a log cabin and maybe a few cows and braiding my hair every day and sleeping under the stars while reading a Joan Didion book, but that remains to be seen.
This year, realistically, will be spent at my day job in the morning, where I can only hope my favorite coworkers will be working that day (and not the ones I don't like-I'll say it. It's my fucking blog), along with maybe buying some chocolate, gluten-free cupcakes with the slightly stiff frosting on top (one of the best pastries we sell, IMHO), and of course, copious amounts of alcohol (a bottle of Zinfandel that's under $6).
I will then go home, tired and disgruntled from dealing with the general public who somehow still doesn't understand social distancing or that we most definitely do not have what they're looking for "in the back" (like, read the fucking room-and maybe a news article or two), make some sort of roasted veggie and chicken dish while listening to a carefully curated playlist that consists of ONLY Rihanna and Big Thief (my two moods), and then force myself to do a yoga workout via YouTube, all before falling asleep with my laptop fixed on a random Buzzfeed Unsolved episode. #stayathome
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying the peace and stillness from quarantine. Granted, I feel guilty for even admitting it to myself, much less the 1 reader of this blog (thanks, Julie). I should probably be more miserable than I am currently, to join in the angst of my fellow peers, if not more. It is considered to be more justified for me (I am on the front lines as an "essential" employee, after all. haha).
Maybe it's because, logistically, my daytime life has not changed much at all. I work the same hours and the same days. The main difference is, I come home exhausted from the intense anxiety and doom that's looming over everyone for eight hours, but then I have the rest of the evening to myself.
I miss stand up, terribly, and I miss seeing my non-work friends, but this time alone has given me a chance to catch my breath after a whirlwind of my 20s. This is obviously not to downplay the devastation that's happing in the world right now, but mostly me trying to find a bright spot in this bleak time.
I've been enjoying getting to know Cortney as a mid-20s adult woman with her own health insurance and 401k (not that those are absolute ear markers of an "adult", but I am thankful I have both), and, even more importantly, doesn't share and act on every thought and feeling on a whim anymore (usually).
Compared to not feeling stunted and living the breakneck lifestyle of 3 hours of sleep every night and eating bar food at whatever place I was performing at and emotional breakdowns every hour as early 20s Cortney (a lifestyle I will probably retreat back to as soon as live comedy is tangible again, truthfully, but hopefully with some balance).
I still have a lot to process from the last year, and from the last almost 27 years of my life, and some I will share with you, most of it is for me. Happy April, and here's to new beginnings, even in this bleak time. Please be safe.
Attached is my enneagram chart. This alone feels really revealing, but feel free to drop yours in the comments.
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