I feel terrible when I miss meetings. I genuinely enjoy being there and speaking with all of the staff. I find those meetings not only about the newspaper, but about us. It is time for us to relax, maybe eat, and talk about our lives. It is at those meetings that I am able to see beyond my computer and the articles: I see the writers and editors who make this happen every week. I feel connected and accomplished after the GBMs, like I am reminded of exactly why I do what I do. Those events are easily the best part of my job.
I have missed three General Body Meetings (GBMs) recently. I regret not going, but I do not regret why I missed them.
The first week, I chose to study instead. I had an important midterm coming up, and I am glad I took the time for myself and for school. Sometimes it is hard to separate school from the newspaper, and I can think of many moments where I have given less attention to my academic obligations for The Stute. When I sat down and looked at the exam in front of me, I knew I had made the right decision in not attending that week’s GBM.
The second week, I fear I was sick. I would have done anything to attend the event, as we had catered Wingstop and were making dirt cups for Earth Day. I had helped set up, but knew I had to leave and could not stay and mingle. All day, I had been feeling drowsy and dizzy. By the time I woke up the next morning, I had to skip all my classes and rely on DayQuil to get me through. I blame the fact that I live in a college dorm room on a floor with all guys. I am the Resident Assistant (RA), and I had heard my residents coughing the week before. I should have taken more precautions, but I got cocky. I believe only a couple of days before contracting my illness, I had said to a friend, “This is great, I have not gotten sick this semester!” Yeah, I am still recovering. If you hear me coughing, you now know why.
This past week, I had the opportunity to see Florence + The Machine in concert instead of attending our weekly meetings. I obviously went! It was brilliant. There are some artists who hold a special place in your heart. Their music keeps you warm when everything else around you is cold. It is their art that you can greet like an old friend when it finds its way on your playlist again. It is their music that holds your memories of times that were better and worse. Florence + The Machine is that for me.
I am a crier, but I have never been emotional at a concert. But, I, embarrassingly, was in tears for half of the time I was there. I was feeling every emotion you could feel; it was the peak of the semester for me. Thank you to whoever controls the seating chart in the Entertainment Committee (EC) for giving me dead-center seats at Madison Square Garden. The concert transformed my entire soul—yes, that is dramatic—and I absolutely mean it. You just had to have been there.
So, yes, Stuters. I, Jiya Jaisinghani, have missed the last few events. I do apologize for my absence and promise that for the last two meetings of the semester, I will be there! I have been on a rollercoaster ride for these last few weeks, and it has finally come to an end. For now, I can focus on The Stute.
