I have never done anything more depressing than look for work.
There is nothing in this world I will enjoy more than waking up
early to do 40 hours of work a week within the same building, let
alone having someone tell me what to do, when to leave and what to
wear.
During the long hours of this future job, just like in econ
class, my mind will probably wander back in time to more carefree
days.
In addition to my freshman home in the Dykstra 10 lounge, my
apartment on Levering Avenue, a dozen intramural teams and
Thursdays at Brewco, my reverie will find its way to this job
I’m leaving now ““ writing for the Daily Bruin.
It’s a “job” because that’s what I
currently know about jobs.
My work consisted of watching sports and writing about them, and
my office environment was a bunch of other sports nerds
trash-talking fantasy baseball teams, engaging in daily SoCal v.
NorCal holy wars, and arguing about the great existential questions
of life ““ like how can anyone like soccer?
My boss last year, while a good friend, was the main target of
incessant teasing during long hours spent editing. We dubbed him
“the Cal Ripkin of braces.”
I traveled while covering the football team, had the privilege
of having my own voice and face published in columns, and saw the
tangible result of my hard work throughout campus the next day.
I don’t play any musical instruments, and I can’t
act. I’m not the most popular Pictionary teammate, but the
one artistic talent I can share with others is my writing.
I don’t know how many people read my stories. For all I
know, it may be just my parents. Still, I have received occasional
feedback from friends and even from people I’ve never
met.
Despite the nearly 200 articles, I’m still self-conscious
about my writing, so everything nice that’s been said has
really meant a lot.
The Daily Bruin gave me the liberty to write about such personal
subjects as my love of the Golden State Warriors, my roommate
Billy, and how much I miss playing baseball.
I also had free reign for an entire quarter to be ridiculously
biased and pretty much cheerlead the basketball team.
I can’t imagine ever having any more freedom, nor can I
dream of a better forum than my classmates at my school paper.
UCLA is a big place. Just like a frat or club, the Daily Bruin
made this community smaller and more personal.
My feelings toward the Daily Bruin are probably no different
than those of many other seniors who have internalized an activity
to the point that the thought of not being around it is downright
eerie.
Maybe this next step will be like the one I made when I entered
this campus. UCLA made me quickly forget about high school, and
four years from now I may likewise scoff at the idea of waxing
nostalgic about college.
I doubt it, though, because unfortunately, I will have plenty of
time to think about it.
Peters was a 2003-2004 assistant sports editor.