Good morning one and all! And so it begins.
Here I am sat on a train, half on but half off this seat so as not to appear too close to the girl next to me, who is reading her kindle as I type. Directly in front of me is a rather camp elderly gentleman, sporting a bright royal blue jumper and a mustard yellow scarf; bobbley from years of casually throwing it around his aging, sun dried neck.
Eminem’s ‘almost famous‘ has reached its end and Taylor Swift’s irritation at a certain lads disregard for an apology, becomes common knowledge to my ear drums as I venture into London on this delightful Monday morn.
I think I am the only person on this train to be glad of the day of the week. We are now driving past a park full of joggers, panting in the cold air, which makes me wander how they can possibly squeeze in a jog before work. Unless they are unemployed like me?
Perhaps. I guess I’ll never know.
I love that train squeak and the grate of rails as the trains slaloms along the line. Another train rushes past, it’s sudden outburst of noise enough to turn heads, an untranslatable message to the train I’m on; a metallic, mechanic hello.
Jiggling along, strained eyelids gaze down at crinkled papers; fingertips are chilled and inky. This morning I haven’t allowed myself to feel nervous. In fact I haven’t even thought about what I’m going to be doing in the next few hours, I guess because I don’t actually know. I’m not living it until I’m actually there.
I feel so wide awake.
Oh hello, I just love it when people stare right in my face. Well, the time has come to disembark. Oyster card at the ready.
Lunchtime. I am inhaling my cheese and tomato bagel as I walk along Munster Road. Cold. Freezing but with the sun on my face; my hair illuminated as I lick the wayward tomato pip from my lip. After a morning of reading Children’s books, retweeting and booking myself a free place at the London Book Fair, it feels good to stretch these legs of mine.
This is the life of the intern.
I have an absolutely lovely colleague, who is showing me the ropes. This is different to my placement at Walker, but already it holds the potential to be wonderful. Already I am getting into the swing of things. And there may not be a ‘Where’s Wally?’ mug to drink my tea from but there was the offer of a lindt chocolate, which I promptly accepted. Spending the day discussing the plight of the job seeker with someone who recently felt my pain so completely, listening to Radio 1 while typing away in unison and laughing at the need for the Queen’s gastroenteritis to be broadcast to the entire world, was just the tonic I needed. This flicker of hope, this penniless graduate come publishing professional showed me that my time will come. That I will get there.
Despite tripping up a blind man in the mad dash at Victoria, I headed home feeling encouraged and happy with life. Excited for tomorrow. It is amazing what a friendly Marketing and Publicity Officer can do for morale.
Only, the tube smelt like urine and made my previously delicious apple no longer remotely appetizing. And some rude people talked over me for the majority of the journey; their jumbled speech brushing the top of my head.
Home. Food. Shower. PJs. Cuppa. Blog. Bed. Sleep and lots of it.
Until tomorrow. All things in turn, from the intern.