I guess I'm in charge now, sort of.
I'm the captain now, the responsible one, the boss, the editor in chief.
This week began my tenure as the editor of a newspaper I've contributed to for three years of my life and let me tell you what it feels like.
Put excitement, a dash of dread, a heavy dose of no sleep, an inbox busting at the seems, a couple thousand words from my brain, a bag of single origin coffee beans, computer-screen-strained eyes, and four thousand unread newspapers in a blender, pour it into your favorite mug and drink it with a straw.
The job is a familiar one to me. I've watched three brave women before me take it on. There have been days when I couldn't wait for my turn and long stretches where I firmly decided I wouldn't dare take it on. And now, the reins are handed off to me.
*brews another cup of coffee*
I guess I'm ready, sort of.
I am armed with a constantly-dying laptop, a moleskin notebook and a stolen pen. Isn't that all you need?
I don't know what will be thrown my way in the 31 issues I'm in charge of. I don't know what I'll do when I have to be brave and face opposition and publish news not everyone wants to hear. More than the late nights in the newsroom and the scramble for an editorial when it gets forgotten about, I am more nervous about the thoughts and stories and words that are yet to unfold.
I hope I don't run the thing into the ground. I hope I make people think a little more about the world we live in and the school we attend. I hope that maybe you'll read it.