I remember my first Editor’s Note. Quill in hand and brimming with nascent enthusiasm, I penned my initial ravings at least a week before production week even started. Bounding into my first section meeting, the late nights and steamrollering stress-a-thons seemed a speck on the horizon; a challenge to be risen to without a backward look.
Nine months and seven each-gruelling-in-their-own-way production weeks later, I’m sitting in the office dishevelled, dead-eyed, huddled over my YUSU-branded coffee late on a Sunday night, while the Sub-Editors argue over the capitalisation of the phrase general election. With roughly 20 minutes to write my last Editor’s Note, under the dawning realisation that soon I, like all my predecessors, will be yesterday’s Nouse, I feel my transformation is complete. Wide-eyed Platonist to jaded burn-out, whose voice can often be heard informing the corridors of Grimston House that they are “too old for this shit”. From Forrest Gump to Dirty Harry. Serpico a the beginning of the movie, to Serpico at the end.
But it is only now, staring down the barrel of what I’ve been loosely terming ‘my freedom’, that I realise that I will miss Nouse and miss it badly. I am temporarily reminded of that Passenger song that dominated 2013, “you only know you love her when you let her go”. Trite perhaps, but as true as a truism can be.
When you’ve done something for long enough it can become monotonous, but routine is made of up of many of the simple pleasures and frustrations that have made the University experience the rollercoaster that is has undeniably been.
I’ve relied on pop culture references throughout my brief and inglorious stint in student journalism, so I might as well end with one: “life moves pretty fast, if you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it”.
So in this increasingly emotional farewell, I can only say that’s its been a blast. It doesn’t feel like it right now, but the photos that adorn the wall of ‘Nousetalgia’, and the in-jokes that I will take with me out into the world (“does the shoot have a fold in it?” *chuckles unproariously*) are far more important than a week of sleep. And to provide a shameless plug for my unfortunate successor, if you’ve ever had any interest in student journalism, then come to our by-elections at the end of this week. Who knows, you may end up misanthropic, exhausted, and fundamentally fulfilled.
Editing a student paper is, and always will be, beset by delusions of grandeur, but it is not something you can do by halves, so forgive this tired Editor for his disgraceful self-indulgence. So long Nouse. Thanks for the memories.