When I applied to The Daily Texan during my first semester at UT, I felt like I was applying for the New York Times. I know … that seems dramatic … because it definitely was.

But instead of walking into a professional newsroom filled with people in suits typing away about breaking news (yes, that’s how I imagine the New York Times), I walked down the eerie basement stairs to be greeted with fellow journalism weirdos and a couple of cockroaches. But honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way — maybe we should actually hire an exterminator though because the gear-closet cockroaches scare me. 

If I want to take anything out of my college experience, I want to become comfortable with the uncomfortable. Us journalists are so used to being shoved into cookie-cutter molds of stability. We’re taught to put deadlines before our sanity — even if we feel like we’re going to crumble.

And trust me, there’s been a lot of times I’ve almost crumbled. 

There’s a lot I’ll miss about college and the Texan, but I’ve also never been more excited to have a break in my life. I’ve spent years conquering deadlines, but for once, I want to do something for myself.

Maybe I’ll travel the world, maybe I’ll move to Switzerland (okay probably not) or maybe I’ll just stay in Austin and take life one day at a time. I’m finally ready for me to determine my priorities instead of my Google Calendar.

Yes I still love and adore journalism –– and yes I want a cool job –– but right now I just want to live for myself. I think what I need is to experience life outside of a classroom in order to be inspired. 

And without my photo friends, the Texan wouldn’t have a purpose in my eyes. You guys are all what makes me excited to come to the basement — somehow y’all manage to make me feel at home. Also, I’m sure we’re the first photo p-staff in Texan history to go camping for our social. 

To Lorianne, I love your personality as much as you love Harry Styles. To Joy, I’m determined to meet your corgi one day. To Alex, I have a newfound respect for you since you listen to “The Smiths”. To Julius, our cats still need to have a playdate ASAP. And to Assad, when we were in high school together, you were my publications role model (no one tell Assad I said that). 

Everyday, each and every one of you continues to inspire me. Y’all are creative, driven, hardworking and admittedly a little weird, but I’m so lucky to call you guys my friends. In 40 years, I can imagine us all hanging out in the back row of the Friends of the Texan event when we’re old and wrinkly — but hopefully by then the event will end before midnight. 

Regardless of where my career takes me in the future, I’ll forever cherish the memories I made after I descended the eerie basement steps for the first time  — and those memories wouldn’t be possible without the people who made the Texan worthwhile.