Originally published at Foliate Oak Literary Magazine
9:54 am: I arrive six minutes early. It's so I can take the stairs. The newspapers' office is on the fourth floor. It's my exercise for the day. Even after two and a half months my legs still feel like rubber when I get to the top.
9:57 am: Maureen, the receptionist, says hello when I come in. I try to say good morning, but I'm out of breath from the stairs. I don't think she's ever heard me speak, but still greets me everyday. I hope Amy is reading this.
9:58 am: I sit down at the interns' desk and unpack my laptop. I try to regain composure, but the deep inhales are noticeably distracting the real writers around me. I assume my body will eventually acclimate to the physical strain of the stairs. Amy said I needed to better myself—physically and mentally. It's the reason I applied for the internship, no matter the lack of pay.
9:59 am: I notice Ethan isn't here. Point: me.
10:20 am: I successfully make it twenty minutes without checking Facebook. Instead, I alternate between a blank word document and the NPR website. I don't actually read anything. It's my personal routine for getting ready for the day.
10:21 am: I check my Facebook. No new notifications. I leave a status update, “How about that weather?”
10:22 am: I refresh my Facebook page.
10:24 am: After I refresh the page a few times, the music editor comes out of her office. She asks if I saw Ethan's new blog post. I tell her no, even though I read it last night. Seven times. She says I should check it out because it's freaking hilarious. I silently agree, even though I wish I hated it. She goes back into his office without inquiring where Ethan is. He's half an hour late, I want to say. But no one likes a tattle-tale, according to Amy. Point: Ethan.
10:25 am: It's the first time during the new day that I think, I hate Ethan.
10:26 am: I wonder if anyone asks Ethan if he read my blog post from the day before. Probably not. I need to blog more.
10:28 am: I go back to staring at the NPR home page.
10:41 am: Ethan walks in and sits next to me. He hands me a CD I was asking about earlier in the week. He's trying to grow a mustache. Doesn't he know he's not even old enough to drink? What a hipster. Thinking about how young he is reminds me that I'm old enough to be divorced.
10:46 am: I refresh my Facebook page. No new notifications.
10:53 am: Ethan goes into the music editor's office without knocking. They're called manners, idiot, I think to myself. What an immature kid. I giggle. I try to do it quietly, but the news editor glares at me.
10:54 am: I hate Ethan.
11:19 am: He's still in her office. They're laughing every few minutes. I can tell she's laughing to be polite. I've actually made her laugh. She just thinks he's a dumb little kid. I'm the one with a college degree. I realize I haven't changed my computer screen. It's been on the blank word document for twenty minutes. I type a quick sentence to fool any of the real writers around me, just in case they walk by. There may be more than horse meat in Britain's beef. That'll buy me some time.
11:28 am: Ethan taps me on the shoulder and asks if I want to go to lunch. I tell him it's going to be a working lunch for me. I hear them say that on TV. He says, next time, and leaves. I can't believe he's already going to lunch. He's probably going to get mac 'n' cheese. Hipster.
11:30 am: I hate Ethan.
11:31 am: Everyone goes to lunch. Now I don't have to feel guilty about refreshing my Facebook page.
11:35 am: I refresh my Facebook page. No new notifications.
11:37 am: I try to go to Amy's profile, but she blocked me.
11:38 am: I refresh my Facebook page. No new notifications.
11:39 am: I eat my granola bar. I have to force myself to eat less. Amy said overeating was a vice.
11:42 am: Refresh. No notifications.
11:43 am: Refresh. No notifications.
11:45 am: Refresh. John Anderson likes my status. I leave my only comment of the day, “I know, right?”
12:07 pm: Luke, the Arts & Culture editor, asks if I can send over the movie review that is due today. I tell him, no problem, just give me a minute to format it.
12:11 pm: I watch the movie's trailer twice on Youtube, hoping to get enough sense to write a four hundred word review. It's for the new Francis Ford Coppola movie. I have no idea what it's about. Another attempt at lo-fi independence. I'll just segue into talking about Vincent Gallo.
12:15 pm: Ethan finally comes back. He sits down next to me and we both type for an hour.
1:20 pm: Luke calls out from his office. He wants to know if I sent the review. Of course, I yell, I guess it didn't go through. I give the movie a four out of five and send it.
1:25 pm: Ethan packs his bag. He tells me to have a good day. I want to say, if you worked a full day, maybe I would. The music editor tells him she just got his email. Article looks great, she says.
1:26 pm: I hate Ethan.
1:35 pm: I get an email back from Luke. Did you even watch the movie? I guess the phrase, “gotta love the smell of Gallo's charisma in the morning” didn't mask my ignorance very well. I look at the clock. 1:35 is a reasonable time for an intern to cut out early. Ethan does it all the time and everyone loves him. I put my laptop in my bag without turning it off. Any problems can be dealt with tomorrow. Interns usually just need to work four hours. How hard is that, Ethan?
1:37 am: I take the stairs one by one. I want to tone my leg muscles for Amy. She used to call me chicken legs. I don't really know what that means.
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