It’s 2pm on a Friday in March, and I’m sitting at my kitchen counter in blue polka dot panties, a sports bra, Uggs, and my mother’s grey cashmere sweater. I’m not putting on makeup, warming up my voice, or practicing new songs for the show tonight. That’s because there is no show tonight. Or tomorrow. Or the next day. For me, and for the rest of the world, the stage is dark.