Diary of a 20-Something

Weekly column by M.M. Cochran

Room with a view

Macy Cochran's picture

Y’all know that stomach bug going around? It sucker punched me on Wednesday night and had me in a choke hold till Thursday at about 9 p.m., when I crashed from exhaustion.

Just that simple

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The Sabbath––the seventh day.

The day of rest before starting a work week all over again.

Here’s some not-very-restful news: until this past Sunday, I hadn’t taken a day of rest in…I actually don’t know how long. Months, probably.

Gaining something

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On Sunday night, I went to a friend’s surprise birthday dinner at a nice little Asian place on Pelham.

I didn’t know anyone at the party except the birthday girl and her boyfriend, as well as my boyfriend, so I was surrounded by a bunch of couples who I had never met. You know the situation.

Only looking up

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New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day––they had passed in a frenzy of glittery necklaces, loud, golden horns that blasted through midnight, and women in velvety dresses.

Growing pains

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When I was about seven years old, my dad took a business trip to Atlanta.

For a few days, I was home with my mom and older sister. It was summertime, I believe, because I wasn’t in school, and I starkly remember being in shorts and a tank top for most of that time Dad was gone.

Boats against the current

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At the end of every year, I start thinking about how I can change up my column––my theme, my points, my angles.

My first year at my first newspaper, it was titled “From College to Real World.” My second year was called, “The Rest of My Life.”

Year three was called (see above) “Diary of a 20-something.”

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