podeameurgh, it's an intern
My lower back’s on massive hurt now; throbbing and thumping and throbbing. What’s truly discomfiting though, is the reason behind the pain.
Perched nervously on various seats, tense energy making it impossible to relax, waiting for people to return and claim their desks, to move around the office like a vagabond – I wonder if I made the right choice to intern.
Sure, I’m learning, of the why’s and how’s things happen (un-officially) and the various ways to staple, remove staples, and just about everything to do with staples (officially). But it’s not very… soothing.
I’m not relishing the experience, simply because most of what I pick up (other than the bits containing staples) is picked up surreptitiously – eavesdropping had become a sin.
Not that it’s too difficult though. I’m like a necessary nuisance in the office. Ignore the intern, maybe he’ll disappear.
Everyone’s nice, of course, but not very friendly. Like a spotless floor; just because it’s impeccably clean doesn’t mean you’re comfortable eating off it. Though the analogy needs some work.
Any how, it’s all very “Oh, hullo! How are you? That’s nice.” looks away, then looks back and “Oh! You’re still here? Are you okay?”
Only once or twice did I come close to talking, as in talking; and never to the people I was assigned to, too.
But never did. Close was all I got.
During lunch, I needed to talk to someone; a pre-arranged call held promise of reprieve. Of course, considering with whom it was, I wasn’t all too surprised he stood me up – sleeping at twelve bloody thirty, no less. And so back into the office I went, continuing media evaluations.
Not that I had anyone, anywhere, any_want_, to spend lunch with, to, for.
I need to talk to at least one person though; I can’t keep living on a kit-kat bar and teensy bottles of juice. Maybe that’s a secret place under the stairs where they go get their food. I need to find out which panel to knock three times upon.