Diary of a 20-Something

On Monday morning, I sat at my desk around 9:30 a.m. and imagined how quiet New York City must have been in that moment.

A city that buzzes with life every second of the day became quiet that morning.

This time of year, I get nostalgic for my childhood.

Listen, I’m a dog person. Cats? I literally could not care less.

And then, there I was, walking my dog in my yard, and I came across a black cat lying in the middle of our field. It was injured, bleeding from behind its ears, as well as its paws.

Behind me, an ominous storm was brewing over the mountains, hurling our way.

I read two books last week. One was amazing, the other was. . . well, it was terrible.

And I had really high expectations, you know. I had seen the cover of this book all over social media, Barnes and Noble, and even on the subway when I was in New York last year.

I grew up in a house with a row of big windows lining the living room wall.

It seemed like in every season, we’d lose a few birds because they would fly straight into the windows. But every once in a while, my mom and I would find a bird, lonely, sitting on our back deck, too injured to fly.

School, cool mornings, and pumpkin spice is in the air. This time of year is very distinct in my memory. I remember prepping my college schedule around this time, pulling together outfit ideas, thinking about what I would learn about writing that semester, and knowing it would go by quicker than I thought.

There’s a September chill on the breeze that sweeps over my farmhouse each morning and evening.

Over the weekend, I went on a. . . I want to call it “hike,” but it was Caesars Head State Park, and we all know that’s just a 25-foot-long concrete path.