So today marks the 23rd day since I’ve started my first white collar internship. It’s a small headquarters for a much larger firm, so I’m quite enjoying this quiet interlude before the college conveyor belt picks me up and forces me to sprint the next 9 months.
As a temp (like Donna Noble!), I don’t have a permanent office. And with a pretty important person also being hired starting next week, I’m being shuffled from one desk to another. The office I’ve occupied is spacious, clean (wherever I could reach), and simple. Not once have I had to turn on the lights — natural lighting spills into the room from windows that are two walls of the office. Whenever I need to get away from the computer, all I have to do is glance up and I get this gorgeous view of the canal.
Despite only being an intern, I am learning about how to conduct myself in an office environment. The biggest surprise has been actually applying many things from my business courses that I thought would be useless until after graduation. Good to know accounting is good for something, though this just confirms I never want to be an accounting major. (Gaaah all these people who don’t know how to report expenses properly!)
My current big task is to find a booking for the company’s holiday party. Hurrah! Something I know I’m good at, and something I love! But even finding a venue is a lot of research, and man, OpenTable — where have you been all my life??!
Some of these are way out of the company’s budget, but I think I’ve got it all narrowed down to a few promising restaurants. Now it comes down to this: do we go with swanky, classy, or smart?
*cough* That’s the dress code. And it seems kinda underdressed, eh, for an evening dinner of semi-corporate people? But nope. Didn’t say this earlier, but my firm? It’s an engineering firm. Which means most of the people who work there are engineers. And if you’ve never been in the company of engineers, they’re not exactly…dressy people. Don’t get me wrong, my brilliant coworkers intimidate me to no ends with their freaky obsession with math and marathons. But those jeans, with that shirt, and honestly…tracksuits at work?? Nuh-uh, sweetheart. Those go back into the closet.
As for me, who keeps an archive of style magazines in her closet, I’m getting a good dose of evil delight from this. By having initial control over the venue-selection, I’m having so much fun deciding their brainy, number-filled fates.
Even if it’s only for a few hours.