Every fall, 1,100 Cornell students wake up at 10:10 a.m. to hear about the holy sanctity of sleep, as preached by Reverend James Maas, psychology. Invariably, none of these students are Sun editors; we could never take a class that early — 10 a.m. is somewhere around hour three in our regimen of 4.5 hours of sleep per night.

But usually, the students who end up signing on to this lifestyle were, at one point, in the chapel for Prof. Maas’ sermons. And, as if by magic, the lessons from Psych101 vanish from memory as soon as their names hit the masthead.

We know that Maas teaches that sleep makes you more physically fit, more alert and that more rest will make you live longer. Given that not being alert in class at Cornell is detrimental to one’s academic performance, we know that The Sun may take its toll on our grades.

In short, according to Maas, The Sun is likely to add a few semesters to its editors’ college experience while shaving a few off of their lives.

We know we make sacrifices for The Sun.

For me, the sacrifices will (probably) not come in the form of additional tuition dollars for an extra semester, though I certainly did give up an inordinate amount of sleep over the last three years in the name of The Sun. Rather, they came in the form of the things I would have done had I not worked for the paper in the first place.

For starters, I would have been more involved with my sorority. At its most basic level, a sorority is a social organization. I have missed the vast majority of my chapter’s social events over the last three years and every one of its weekly meetings since 2004. Were it not for The Sun, I undoubtedly would have been there — I chose the black and white over the red and green.

Parties are not the only events to occur on this campus at night, however. The Hill is bustling with speakers, performers, concerts and athletic events all year long. It’s not that I didn’t love editing articles about these things — I did — but more frequently than I would have liked, I was only able to experience them second-hand via article instead of attending the real thing, in person. To be sure, when I was the one to cover these events, I would not only attend, but also sit in the front row with a press pass and get an interview afterward; but the ratio of events to Sun staff is a little too low for that to be the case terribly often. Nearly missing Jon Stewart really tested my commitment to 139 W. State Street.

This address, I used to joke last spring when training to be Editor in Chief, was where I went abroad. “Compet,” as we call the training process, is an all day, all night, all-consuming practice that removes its participants not merely from Cornell, but really from this planet, instead placing them on Planet Sun. Had I decided not to run for Chief and to leave after serving as News Editor, I would have gone abroad someplace other than downtown Ithaca. London or Melbourne both appealed to me. I also considered staying in the country and doing Cornell in Washington.

I would’ve double majored; I might’ve switched my major. I would’ve sat at CTB with a pitcher of sangria a lot more often. I would’ve taken more than 121 credits. I would’ve spent less time in Olin Café ... I might have spent more time in Olin Café. I would’ve had a cleaner room. I would’ve had a lower cell phone bill. I would’ve done all 161 things to do at Cornell (albeit, I’ve done about 140, thanks largely to The Sun).

And I would make the same exact decision again. Working for The Sun was by far the best decision I’ve ever made.

That said, I don’t think I could have done it without the encouragement of so many different people. And like my mom always taught me, when you’re given a gift, you have to write a thank you note. So here goes.

Thanks to Allie Markowitz, Jenna Odett and Michelle Cassorla, for putting up with far more than your share of my insanity. You guys have been my sounding board, my fashion consultants (hell, Allie, we all know you outright dress me most nights) and the best friends a girl could possibly have. To say that college would not have been the same without you would be an enormous understatement.

Jonny Lieberman, Olivia Oran, Rebecca Shoval, I am not at all kidding when I say that I have a maternal instinct when it comes to you guys. Thanks for making me proud every day when I pick up the paper.

Jeff Hancock and Brian Earle are two of the finest professors Cornell has to offer. The communication department is lucky to have them, and I am grateful for having been in their classes.

Thanks to David Fine, for dealing with me during Compet; Josh Goldman, for being my personal editorial board, always; and Byron Bitz, for making retirement so much fun.

The Commsters, my friends and my many roommates (both official and unofficial), Inna, Liz, Allie, Ariel K., Jenna, Michelle, Ariel F., Ilene, Jaime, have put up with incessant Sun talk. Thanks for your patience, and for four amazing years.

Erica Temel and Freda Ready, you two are my mentors. I never would have done any of this without you; thank you for changing my life.

Michael Morisy, I’m sure it didn’t come through when I was angrily pulling your renegade reporter behind out of garbage cans, but you were the best Managing Editor I could have imagined. Carlos Maycotte, thank you for finishing my sentences for the last year. Boys, we made a great team.

I’m sure most Sunnies didn’t know it, but they all got two extra readers every day in my parents. Mom and Dad, thank you for being The Sun’s legal counsel, my biggest fans and unconditional supporters of America’s oldest independent college daily.

Finally, to the Editors of the 124th Editorial Board, thanks for making the choice so easy.

Sunny nights,

E

Erica Fink is The Sun’s former Editor in Chief. She can be contacted at ebf6@cornell.edu. Fink Again appeared Tuesdays.