Great Expectations

Now that I’ve been working in my new position for over a month, I felt it was due time for some reflection. I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting from this internship, especially considering the fact I’ve never worked in New York City before. My previous internship was in a similar corporate environment, albeit we catered to quite a different market, so I had no idea what to expect.
That’s right, there’s seven of us. Of course we’re not all here on the same day, but I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue considering we only have one desk, one computer and two chairs. Actually, only five interns work in the PR office and the other two spend their days two floors above us in the sample room. If I were to count the two Miu Miu interns as well, that would round us out to a grand total of nine interns.
I was by myself for the first two weeks, and when I arrived on my first day I knew exactly why the press assistant seemed excited to have me start earlier than the rest of the team. Our desk was piled high with every magazine imaginable, waiting to be read and tabbed and scanned and filed and then archived when a newer issue arrived. So there I was, fully caffeinated and wielding two nimble thumbs, ready to page through the dozens and dozens of glossy publications threatening to fall over and hit me on the head. Now that there’s five of us to get the work done, my days have been considerably less busy. But, most importantly, our desk is immaculate.
I knew what I was signing up for when I decided to commute to New York via bus. I even gave myself a thirty-minute buffer between the time I arrived in the city and the time I needed to be in the office. I think I was also mislead by my experiences traveling during off-peak hours, where I would whiz through each toll booth and enter the Lincoln Tunnel uninhibited. Now, I often find myself staring at the NYC skyline from a highway in Weehawken, where my bus will sit for no less than twenty minutes as it attempts to merge into the lane that takes us to the tunnel. Thankfully, my supervisors seem to be impressed by the mere fact I commute such a distance three days a week, and they don’t seem to mind when I arrive at five-past-nine.
If you know me, you know that I don’t like to take the subway unless absolutely necessary. When I can avoid it, I even forgo SEPTA and walk into work in Center City Philadelphia on the weekends. However, after two weeks of numb toes and blistering winds, I bit the bullet and bought a Metro card. It took me a trip and a missed stop or two to figure out the subway system, but my morning commute was made slightly less stressful.
“Let’s talk about your commute,” said one of my supervisors to me during lunch last week. “How early do you wake up? Because your hair and makeup is always done.”
My priorities in the morning have always been askew. I often spend a little too much time perfecting the wing on my eyeliner, leaving me with no other choice than to grab breakfast on the go. Now that I have to wake up even earlier, I have found that I’m skipping breakfast more and more frequently. I’ll also already be on the bus when I realize I don’t have enough cash on hand for the cafeteria, meaning I’ll have to splurge on Seamless or make a pit stop in Pret-a-Manger on the way to the office. And, for the same reason I don’t like to use the subway, I hate spending money on food when I don’t need to. My recent initiative to avoid processed foods also means all of my meals are made from scratch, so the last thing I want for breakfast is a spicy chicken biscuit from 7-Eleven, even though that’s all I’ll have time for.
As with any major lifestyle change, it has taken some time for me to adjust. I think the fact that I like what I do, and that it will (hopefully) provide me with whole new set of opportunities, makes this all worthwhile.  

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