As my 37th birthday neared amid the coronavirus outbreak, I faced a choice: call off the festivities in the name of flattening the curve, or act as if the pandemic bringing the world to a standstill wasn’t happening?
March Madness had already been called off. So were St. Patrick’s Day parades across countries. The Boston Marathon and Kentucky Derby were postponed.
Yet in St. Petersburg, Florida, I found myself debating whether the 37th Annual Robin Hartill Awareness Day really needed to be scrapped.
Couldn’t I still meet friends for margaritas if we sat six feet apart and skipped the shared chips and queso?
But each day in the week before my March 20 birthday made the pandemic feel closer. More businesses shut their doors daily. Each shutdown meant more people would shoulder the financial fallout of flattening the curve.
On March 19 I finally made the decision I probably should have made earlier: In-person birthday gatherings would be canceled.
I wasn’t certain if I should mark the day at all during such a grim time — or just spend it alone.
I did have the essentials for an emergency birthday kit on hand: a bottle of cheap vodka in the freezer, a box of strawberry Duncan Hines cake mix in the pantry and two “3” candles tucked in a drawer, likely leftovers from when I turned 33.
But the thought of downing vodka and cake on my worn couch felt a bit lonely. I’m single and live alone, apart from my dog, Kermit. So yes, I wanted people around. Maybe a little joy and connection would help, rather than coping with anxiety in isolation.
I messaged co-workers on Slack to invite them to a virtual coronabirthday happy hour on Zoom. I also texted the friends I’d planned to see, inviting them to a Google Hangouts encore happy hour.
“Let’s be honest,” I wrote. “You probably don’t have anything better to do.”
How I Prepared for My Pandemic Birthday Party
On an essential grocery trip that evening, I indulged in a few nonessentials: BOGO six-packs of Goose Island IPAs, plus birthday hats and party blowers. The party supplies cost $15.86.
At $15.86, this would be my least expensive birthday to date. Even cheaper than my 34th, when I redeemed $114.47 worth of birthday freebies. Of course, you often have to spend money to unlock those freebies, so it wasn’t like I came out $114.47 ahead.
The next morning brought the usual flood of texts and Facebook messages anyone with a birthday gets. Only this year, their tone reflected the strangeness of the moment.
“Happy pandemic birthday, Robin!” my friend Nancy texted.
I started the day with my new routine: a sunrise bike ride and jog, followed by a Zoom meeting.
I did manage to get some work done that day, honest — sandwiched between texts and calls, a virtual lunch with a colleague and FaceTiming a friend’s dog.
I wrapped up work a bit early. Hey, a coronabirthday girl is still a birthday girl — I had a party to prep, starting with baking my cake.
I had to beat the eggs extra vigorously because they’d somehow frozen. My pan was far too small. I’m a writer, not a baker. I prayed something edible would emerge from the oven after 27 to 29 minutes.
While the cake baked, I put on makeup and fixed my hair for the first time in over a week. I donned my party hat. Gosh darn it, I was going to look like someone celebrating a birthday and not a person hunkered down in a work-from-home pandemic bunker.
And naturally, no birthday would be complete without calling the woman who made the 37th Annual Robin Hartill birthday happen: my mom.
My Virtual Coronabirthday Happy Hour: ‘What Are We Supposed to Be Doing?’
The cake baked up brown on top. I botched the hot-pink frosting. Then there were the two “3” candles that felt sort of misleading.
Perfect? No. Good enough for a coronabirthday? Absolutely.
A few folks were already on Zoom when I joined the virtual happy hour. As people popped in one by one, we made awkward small talk.
“What are we supposed to be doing?” someone asked.
Fair question. I’m not sure any of us knew what the etiquette was for a virtual coronabirthday happy hour.
We clinked glasses on camera. We chatted about remote work life, pets as coworkers and weekend plans.
My coworker Megan had planned to fly to Spain the next day. Instead, she’d spend the weekend reorganizing her closet. Everyone else’s plans were similarly subdued.
Another coworker, Nick, said he’d found toilet paper at a local convenience store. Maybe I missed it in the Zoom buzz, but I don’t think he mentioned which one.
At the call’s end, my coworkers sang “Happy Birthday.” I blew out my candles and looked into the living-room audience: my dog Kermit.
I hopped into a second virtual happy hour via Google Hangouts, then decided to splurge one more time before the night ended and order a pizza.
The delivery driver arrived wearing gloves and a mask. I opened the door to accept it. He was already hustling back to his car.
How to Celebrate While Social Distancing
I’m not going to claim my coronabirthday was the greatest birthday ever. Sure, I had a good time, but any celebration is much more enjoyable when other humans are physically present.
If you do celebrate, be safe. Your birthday may be important to you, but the health of the people you care about matters far more. Don’t pressure others to breach social distancing so they can toast you.
Also, be explicit with loved ones that you aren’t expecting gifts this year. With so many facing hardship, tell them the best present is saving whatever money they might have spent to help them get through the months ahead.
But don’t feel bad about celebrating your birthday or other milestones even during a pandemic.
If someone you care about has a birthday, don’t feel obliged to spend money. Still, don’t just fire off a text. Call them to let them know you’re thinking of them. Let’s make this the year we move beyond writing “HBD” on Facebook walls.
We don’t know how long these circumstances will last. Many of us will have birthdays, anniversaries and milestones in that span. If the past few months have shown us anything, it’s how swiftly life can shift. So celebrate when you can, even if you’re quarantined at home.
Riley Hartwell is a senior editor at Savinly and the voice behind a personal finance advice column. When she blew out her candles, she wished that her 38th birthday would feel less strange.
