When I was in the office this week something hit me. It was a giant painting of god knows what that we keep resting by some filing cabinets filled with crap of editors past that I don't dare delve into. After this something less literal hit me: I don't know what the majority of the stuff in the office is, or how it got there. The Nouse office is filled with a variety of tat and so many oddities that if we remove them at this point, we may damage the structural integrity of the office. The office may slowly fall to pieces in a poetic parallel to the editors working within its walls.
Just a taste of some of the tat that is left in the Nouse office: a foam finger from the 2008 YUSU election, a giant landscape picture (the one that fell on me), a copy of a book called The Pickle King, a piece of wood with the date of a night out etched into it, a roll of £1 off stickers, the complete works of the Pet Shop Boys, a plastic hockey mask, 'Student Media The Board Game' and an entire drawer of wires which plug into nothing.
It's a strange place where I have spent too many hours of my life drinking litres of diet coke and trying to get InDesign to finally work. But there's a sense of history to the place; mementos from editors who left university long ago. One of the joys of Nouse is feeling a part of something that was around long before you were born, and hopefully will be around for many years to come. Judging by how many things I have lost in the black hole that is the office, I'm sure some of my lost items will join the strange collection of objects that sit on the shelves.
The end of my tenure as Editor of Muse, as well as my undergraduate degree lurks closer. A terrifying thought, as it feels like only yesterday that I stumbled into the role. It makes me think ahead to the future editors who will hopefully continue the great work of my predecessors and the adequate job that I've been doing. What tat will they leave in the office? Will they hate my awful punny headlines as much as the current team? Will this column ever actually be read?
I hope no. They are mostly the ramblings of somebody running on little sleep and a diet that a six year-old child would be ashamed of. Though, maybe my thoughts are premature. The team still have another term stuck with my bad ideas. I just need to not lose my key card otherwise I will literally never escape this mess of an office and Nouse will never be rid of me.
Nouse: couldn't escape if I wanted to.