In the last few weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about time.

Those who know me, a chronic procrastinator, know this means things are getting dire.

As I write this – with an extension, of course – graduation and the promise of real personhood are a mere two weeks away.

In attempting to conceptualize the passage of time up to now, its proper form naturally feels horizontal.

What started with using phone calls to my mom as a lifeline to enter the office grew into receiving the Copy GOAT award. It took me a year to consistently react to messages – which feels ridiculous now, considering the linear expanse of my development, conviction and Slack addiction.

But sometimes, the years feel like what our #production-party Spotify jam would call a “Supercut” – a condensed timeline, this one comprising a portfolio of 82 characters:

Opinion: Sending more than 31K Slacks is not shameful under right circumstances
Award-winning Bruins forget difference between ‘due to,’ ‘because of’ – again
Co-Copy chief quoted for saying 6th story of day has ‘potential to be interesting’
Review: Performances in other clubs cannot surpass eternal Daily Bruin association

In other instances, time feels vertical: Regardless of how much experience I’ve incurred, my progress always seems to be stacked atop recurring themes. With this, I’d be remiss not to mention when shades of grief colored my collegiate experience, both personally and institutionally.

My intern interview was on the one-month anniversary of my father’s passing. In many ways, my introduction to the Daily Bruin’s world was a reintegration into my life as a whole. Memorizing the rules of AP Style was the distraction I was craving, and Kerckhoff 118 was the clean slate I didn’t know I needed.

In what manifested as a full-circle moment, transitioning into leadership came with the same immediate struggles with grief, this time mourning the university’s treatment of its protesting students – a sense of loss and violence I attempted to reconcile through discussions of terminology and our approach to coverage.

I could say more – maybe with more layers of time beneath me, expressing the bruises of last year’s emotions will become eloquent – but for now, I just know that words matter. Choosing what to say and what not to say, when to do either, and who you’re standing down or speaking up for has meaning. If I can insert pride as an emotion for that time period, it would be in appreciating that lesson.

In other breakdowns, my career highlights are best translated into box scores. No one loves an underdog sports movie like I do. Flash forward through bad metaphors, an Arizona road trip, Rose Bowl buffets, a singular column and interviews about statistics I couldn’t explain myself – dare I say I embodied that arc.

Through it all, I had the pleasure of speaking to the most fascinating people I’ve ever met and developing a deep passion for sports I had never watched before. This section brought me out of my shell, developed my confidence to actually put words on a page and made me a die-hard UCLA fan – which, now that I’m officially retired, I can own.

But after three years of rushing – to meet deadlines, edit breaking news stories, post live tweets and produce a print paper before midnight – reflecting back on my era at The Bruin now makes time stand still.

I have been truly privileged to exist in an environment that welcomes me with open arms, tables and computers, and the only thing that makes leaving bearable is the evergreen nature of the relationships I’ve found here.

To slot editors present, past and future: I believe in your success wholeheartedly and am eternally grateful for your trust, dinners and laughs – even when it was far too late, and my jokes were no longer funny.

I’ve never felt anything but loved in Copy, and it’s because of the truly inspiring staff I got to work with. No one else could make me adore the color orange and self-identify with a snail Slackmoji.

So often, it feels like one day I woke up and suddenly knew what I was doing. That certainly was not the case, and you all gave me grace and support in navigating the journey between my first print night and last section meeting. Paco, we may not have gotten a Kamalandslide, but we sure did have the leadership term of a lifetime, and so much of that is credit to your talent and knowledge.

Part of what makes our paper unique is how it brings together those with diverse interests and experiences. While this makes inspiration quick to encounter, it may appear too bustling to let me find my people – that, however, couldn’t be more wrong. Everyone in this newsroom has shown me unearned kindness and deep understanding when I needed it most.

Ira, you’re the sister I always wanted. Mahika, you’ve supported me through the chill, dramatic and intimate. Mia, I hope we live one block from each other and Dunkin’ forever. Everyone who has been on a late run with me, your enthusiasm made something that could have been painful the most special part of college. My fellow seniors, we’re a very special class – I feel deeply lucky to be graduating alongside you.

Time and again, I’ve praised the main advantage of Copy as interacting with everyone in the paper. This remains true, and I am immensely thankful for every single staffer I’ve met in my tenure here. Whether I’ve shamelessly slid into your Slack DMs, begged you to delete an Oxford comma or consumed any media you had a part in producing, you’ve shaped my career and influenced my perception of what a community feels like.

And through it all, The Bruin has taught me that truly everyone has a story. For those reading this, thank you for letting me be a listening ear to yours – until the end of time.

Augusta was the co-Copy chief 2024-2025, a slot editor 2023-2024 and Sports senior staff.