A Gen Z's Epiteph for January 1st, 2023

Mariah Loves Earth and Dall-E 2. Snoopy Loves Midnight. 2023.

It’s 2023. Daringly, I double up my teaspoons of decaffeinated instant coffee that expired in 2017. Harsh, strong, and bold. My tongue tingles with excitement. To add a dash of sweetness to my year, I spoon in a powdered coffee mix called the “Mocha Piglet.” Starting the New Year off with bacony deliciousness. Although, it does have fewer calories than the real thing.                    

Swiftly, I grab the movie rewards card off my bedside table that has been sitting there for many months. Today is the day to enroll. Check mark! It’s added to my Apple wallet. 

Derelict. Not my word of choice to describe my list of “Things to Get Done,” but the first word that comes to mind. It’s all the scrap pieces of paper lying around and the thrift store shirts with holes in them. But today is the day to bring closure. 

Lips scrunched and nose wrinkled—the coffee today really is more bitter than expected. Inspired by a coming-of-age 90s novel I realize, “This is MY life. I need to make each day count!” The windows are open and a cool breeze is engulfing my basement suite. As a counterweight, a hot chocolate scented candle is lit. The glistening flames lick away the reminisce of the previous year. “Thank God, that year is over!” I think.  

My romantic partner is not as optimistic. Being raised in a religion that does not celebrate holidays (read: not a cult) he sees January 1st as just another day. Except, he gets statutory holiday pay. Cha-ching!   

“Wait,” I think as I feel my back ache, “Do younger Gen Zs even know what that sound references? Did they even hear someone pay with cash at a dollar store in the early 2000s?” I’m not even thirty yet and I feel old.

I throw on the song “Linus and Lucy” snap my fingers and dance with morning joy. I remember a grade school friend with a dog named Snoopy. My dirty secret is that I’ve never seen Charlie Brown and Peanuts. My recollection is from an ad in my “Blue’s Clues” VHS. I guess I am young.  

Celebratory joy heightens as I hear my friend’s voice on the phone.
    “Happy New Year!”
    “Happy New Year!”
Time passes quickly with working life. It’s been three months, but the time doesn’t matter when the friendship is eight years old. We originally met at a New Years Eve party.
“How fitting” I feel pleased.  

Hanging up the phone I gain an awareness that the three wick candle really does burn. Even with the windows open I am HOT! Stripping down to my nudie-pants I’m dancing my way to the shower. Still listening to the eclectic Charlie Brown mix I’m ready to be purified. Inspired by the words of a Sōtō Zen Full Moon ceremony I repent all my ancient, twisted, karma. Like an Evangelical baptism at a trade show this is my rebirth.