Of Cheese, Happiness and the Girl in the Corner

Nada Wahba

Senior Online Editor

Going into the newsroom almost every day, I’m welcomed by an orchestra of greetings to which I reply “my loves!” 

I become ecstatic when I see the girl who calls me pretty rush toward me with the biggest smile on her face, her freshly cut bangs bouncing all the while. 

I turn my attention to the girl always sitting in the corner of the room, typing away on her special computer that no one else is allowed to touch or even breathe. 

Her face lights up as she sees me, I go up and hug her and as if I pressed a button that generates an automatic response “hi, I love you,” she says. 

We’re interrupted by a male voice. He’s always picking on the girl who sits in the corner of the room, poking fun whenever he’s here. 

The male figure quickly realizes the newsroom is dominated by women when everyone turns the tables and decides to pick on him as a form of retaliation. 

Bit by bit, people start to show up in the newsroom and the bickering starts to quiet down. After hours of getting sidetracked, everyone finally starts to flock to their designated jobs and we work quietly. 

And the same cycle repeats.

It gets me thinking about what things would be like if the girl with the bangs didn’t come running the second she saw me. 

Or if the girl in the corner didn’t give off positive energy even when she’s had the longest day, or if the male figure doesn’t poke fun at everyone the second he shows up in the newsroom. 

It gets me thinking of a time when the little things that make up the newsroom weren’t there anymore and that a new dynamic would have to be established from scratch. 

Writing the last op-ed for this semester is making me reminisce about the times when I was a reporter and I’d feel like I have this huge responsibility to produce my best work so the girl in the corner wouldn’t be disappointed. 

A semester ago I would’ve never imagined myself being a part of this newsroom, sharing all these memories with the people I used to see only in passing. 

These people are now a fundamental part of the newsroom and the reason I got through this semester. 

No doubt, it’ll be hard walking in the newsroom not finding the girl in the corner aggressively typing away a comment or an email and then looking up and flashing a smile in my direction. 

It’ll be hard skipping a day without having the girl with the bangs give me one of her specialty hugs and making my day just a little bit better. 

It’ll be hard not cracking up at the male figure’s jokes and witnessing him being ganged up on as a consequence. 

It’ll be hard leaving the newsroom without my heart being full. 

Farewell my friends, you know yourselves.