Faithful readers of this column may recall one of my earliest writings for the Bryan County News, a little piece entitled “music to my ears” or some other clichéd jibber-jabber. In it, I wrote about my favorite artists and songs and shared bits of my personality (or lack thereof) throughout the sprawling, yet lighthearted prose.

Yes, I know that my self-deprecation is showing again, but to be perfectly honest, I still love that column and loved writing it, which is why I’m revisiting it this week.

You see, back in the fall when I wrote that little ditty of a column, I was still very new to the newspapering world and the realities of adult life. Before being hired, I spent my days and nights combing LinkedIn for job offers and fastidiously folding laundry while rewatching shows like “New Girl”, wondering if I too could one day live out the millennial dream of having cool roommates and friends like Cece, Nick, Schmidt, and Winston. The alternative, of course, was to continue living with my (divorced) parents as I do now–with my mom’s love of Saturday morning cleaning keeping my weekends busy and my dad watching C-SPAN in the living room like it’s Cocomelon.

However, since writing that early, whimsical column almost two years ago, I have learned to make peace with the humdrum anxieties of being a young woman in my twenties--which includes being grateful that I don’t pay rent in this insane housing market. Outside of work, I fill my days with books, Kroger charcuterie, music, and most recently: March Madness brackets (don’t ask me for picks–everytime I choose a team, those kids act like they’ve never seen a free throw line before).

A book I’m reading at the moment is “Blue Light Hours” by Brazilian author and translator Bruna Dantas Lobato. The novel details the relationship between a young Brazilian woman who went away to Vermont for college and her ill mother. Throughout the book, the daughter details the Skype chats between her and her mom, chronicling the growing distance between them–both physically and emotionally.

I’m glad I picked this book up this week, because it is a perfect book for someone like myself going through a lot of growing pains in my life, and particularly as we’re entering the season of spring–with many folks inching closer to big life-changing events like graduations, weddings, and Carnival cruise ship voyages to the Caribbean with their family and dozens of absolute strangers wearing Panama hats and Birkenstocks.

The season of spring is a season of transitions. Sometimes change is welcome, and sometimes it’s hard. And most of the time it happens without warning. Reading my old columns helps give me a taste of that change, similar to reading old entries in a diary from junior high. (Yes, I did keep a diary back then, and yes, my writings were hilariously unhinged, as you can imagine).

The best way to deal with change, in my opinion, is to take things one day at a time, to borrow the title of Norman Lear’s sitcom. Music also helps, which is why I spend an inordinate amount of time at work making Spotify playlists to reflect my mood and to help fill the awkward silence in the office while I work on page layout.

On page 5, I’ll share some lyrics from some songs I play regularly, because song lyrics and poetry are pretty similar in that they both help folks feel understood.

Some cool lyrics from my work playlists:

Have you ever noticed That your house don’t feel like home? ( Home) In a room that you’ve outgrown Scrubbing at the writing on the walls (Walls, walls) Everybody’s been there So you try your best to leave (Leave) I was told the grass is greener But it’s just a fantasy it seems The Hills, Rachel Chinouriri

There’s a flicker of light There’s always morning after the night It’s all in my mind It’s all in my mind There’s a flicker of light Without the dark, the stars can’t shine bright And I’m still alive I’m still alive Flicker of Light, Lola Young

I told you I loved you when we were just friends You kept me waiting and I hated you then Gave it a few years, you settled your debts But I never got over the secrets I kept It all works out in the end Wherever you go, that’s whеre I am Boulders turn into sand Wherеver you go, that’s where I am That’s Where I Am, Maggie Rogers

I’m learnin’ to write my wrongs (learnin’ to write my wrongs) And speak up when I feel like I’m not bein’ listened to But some story entered my bones When I was far too young to know not to listen to What people say, ‘cause (ah) everybody’s feelin’ the pressure (ah) Of a world that keeps tryin’ to end us everyday 

Sometimes it feels like (ah) everyone’s lookin’ at the surface (ah) And it’s not happenin’ on purpose But they’re takin’ things for granted again Taking Things For Granted, Joy Oladokun

Even if I could, wouldn’t go back where we started I know you’re still waiting, wondering where my heart is Pray that things won’t change but the hardest part is You’re realising maybe I, maybe I ain’t the same The Hardest Part, Olivia Dean & Leon Bridges Just move on up Toward your destination Though you may find, from time to time Complication Bite your lip And take the trip Though there may be wet road ahead And you cannot slip Just move on up For peace you’ll find Into the steeple of beautiful people Where there’s only one kind Move On Up, Curtis Mayfield

Andrea Gutierrez is the managing editor of the Bryan County News, and is well-known for her good taste in music. (She has not been told anything to the contrary as of yet. Readers, please don’t burst her bubble).