Illustration by MK Brittain
By Katlynn Mullins
I walked into SLC 2400 for the first time last January.
I was in a hoodie, shaking and speaking inaudibly the entire time; scared of the steps I was about to take.
I knew I wanted to be an editor. I wanted to quit my baking job at Publix and learn how to be a journalist.
So I did.
I know, those two paragraphs make it sound easy. It wasn’t. I made a lot of sacrifices to put myself into the position I’ve spent the last two semesters in, but I wouldn’t have had it in any other way.
I had to make new habits for myself after figuring all of that out, though.
I became accustomed to mornings at my desk, stressing over emails I had to send and words I had to write; afternoons running from classes in PRW, to interviews at The Campus Grind, then back to class; nights spent alone in the library or with friends at The Tavern.
Sundays were production days. I didn’t do anything except sit at a desk and edit (with plenty of snacks and too much coffee) while talking –– really, yelling –– with my coworkers in The Crow’s Nest office.
The second week of March, I got sick (not coronavirus) and I had to work remotely.
I didn’t realize that would become my new normal.
I didn’t realize that last time walking out of The Crow’s Nest office would be my last.
I didn’t know the largest milestones of my college career would be spent in ZOOM meetings. I didn’t know I’d have to walk around in a face mask and take interviews over the phone and by email. When the campus shut down, I didn’t really know what to do.
I spent weeks trying to make everything seem the same, but it wasn’t.
That was OK with me. If this beloved student paper taught me anything, it was how to adapt.
I don’t drink as much coffee, though I’ve probably had too much wine.
I still eat a lot of snacks, but I get to spend more time with my cat. I get to FaceTime people I hadn’t talked with in a really long time. My favorite pastime became traveling to my friends’ islands on Animal Crossing: New Horizons.
Before quarantine, I learned, cried, yelled, argued and slept in SLC 2400. I thought the memories I made in that room couldn’t be recreated without seeing everyone in person, but they ended up becoming some of my favorites.
My work got better once I wasn’t running myself ragged on campus. I got to do it in a hoodie over email.
These last two semesters were so odd. I grieved a few of my small losses (I really, really, really miss onion rings and beer before that Tuesday night class I shared with so many friends), but celebrated some huge wins.
I made friends and pissed some people off.
I found a small part of myself in that office, and with my coworkers, but I realized that a lot of things are achievable in isolation.
There’s no commencement, but I get to walk across my living room in a USF St. Petersburg sweater instead of a cap and gown.
I get to write this column on my front porch with a glass of wine as my cat stares at me through the window.
I get to wonder about the unknown at a time where everyone feels the same.
That is so exciting, but so terrifying.
