When I was first asked by The Daily Beacon’s managing editor, Emily DeLanzo, to type a “farewell” column for today’s final issue, a swarm of ideas came to mind.

My first thought was to do a joke column intricately detailing the violent machinations I will unleash on every chatty dimwit who suddenly remembers that there is a library on campus during finals week. Like, seriously, I will — like — literally cut you if you come up to the quiet floors and literally bemoan whatever tripe is happening on Facebook … figuratively.

But then I started hearing about what other graduating seniors were thinking when they, too, began to ponder their past four, five (*cough* … six) years as an undergrad. I thought maybe I should jump on the T and wax sentimentally about leaving college and the Beacon and how it’s causing me to “feel” things on some too-deep-for-you-freshmen-plebes to understand level.

The Daily Beacon has been both an unbelievable educational tool and also a hoot and a half. It helped me take everything I’ve been learning in my journalism classes and actually apply it into a tangible product.

Through the Beacon, I’ve met a multitude of interesting and sometimes brilliant people. I helped chronicle the struggles of UT’s LGBT community trying to obtain equal benefits. I’ve interviewed two Tennessee governors. I stood in the rain and asked ol’ Jimmy Cheek what kind of impact Kathie Lee and Hoda might have on UT. We, Beacoknights, pondered what the proper, medical term for “butt-chugging” might be. Turns out it’s “anal enema.” Who knew?

And during that time, I gradually started to feel more and more like a journalist, but less and less like a college student.

Slowly but surely, I started asking myself why was I sitting around studying for this exam or sitting in that class when I could be out covering an event or interviewing someone over the phone. I grew tired of having to do homework when all

I really wanted to do was work.

I am ready to go. While some might look upon graduation with pained nostalgia, fear and loathing, I am looking ahead and saying, “Geronimo!”

In “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” Douglas Adams wrote that, “Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.”

Time is just a measurement of movement around the sun, and UT is our lunchtime. This phase of our lives is done, but that’s all it really is, just a phase. We can do so much more if we want. I don’t think of graduation as an end, but rather a beginning. The end of one chapter, but just the flip of a page away from a whole new one.

And The Daily Beacon taught me that, and therein lies some sadness.

I will miss all of the staff dearly, for the laughs, the rants, the angry phone calls from UT administration, and most importantly, the experience. The effort we shared to make this paper everyday, for better or for worse, cemented firmly in my mind that being a journalist was what I wanted to do. It showed me that journalism could be more than just a classroom, but also a very real thing that was both difficult and fun to do.

I’ll miss Emily and her “squawking.” I’ll miss RJ and him patiently tolerating my occasional disregard of deadlines. I’ll miss racing Melodi to try and open the newsroom door first. I’ll miss Preston and his playful invasion of personal space. I’ll miss Lauren, Austin and Troy’s sports coverage that actually made me interested in sports for the first time. I’ll miss Victoria and how we’d tell each other not to let the man get us down. I’ll miss asking Tara how many photos are left. I’ll miss David and his Chick-fil-A and how we’d both skip a class to cover a story. I’ll miss Tia and her being the only other “Doctor Who” fan in the newsroom. I’ll miss Katrina, Gompers and Alex figuring out how to fit my 1,000-plus word article in the paper. I’ll miss Eric and Jake and how we all looked forward to that evening pot of coffee. I’ll miss Rob because he liked Taylor Swift, too. I’ll miss Hannah playfully bashing the more mediocre writers that came our way. I’ll miss Blair and how she painfully endured all of our shenanigans. I’ll miss Frisbee and the banana suit.

I’ll miss the Beacon Blitz.

But as that inevitable walk across the stage approaches, I’ll attend not with eyes looking sadly at the past, but with a smile and wink as I turn to face the future with all of my friends and colleagues. It’s been too much fun to be sad for too long.

In conclusion, I leave with another quote, from Alan Moore and David Lloyd’s “V for Vendetta.” The graphic novel itself has nothing to do with college or journalism, but there were a few words toward the end that sum up all these “feels” of mine perfectly.

“Descending now to claim my heritage, I think about the task ahead, so vast, so vital and so difficult. … I feel elated, wild, enthusiastic … but not scared. There isn’t time for fear, for me or anyone. We’ve things to do … people to see.”

And I would add, “People to interview.”

— Justin Joo is a senior in journalism and his last name sounds like “yo.” He is currently on the “job hunt,” which his journalism professors have been saying is a terrible, horrific thing to do since his freshmen year. You can follow the sad documentation of the ordeal on Twitter @JustinJoo.