About 8 hours away from completing my first full work-week in my life, I now realize that I didn't know what I was getting in to. Maybe I had an idea, because I almost didn't want to get hired. I was split between getting valuable experience and time in and getting the summer off after a very busy and stressful year.
I was given a small office that everyone in the floor uses as storage. I rearranged a couple of things and made it a bit more mine, but my little cave here got me thinking about how much I'll like having my own office next year at the Clocktower.
Still, I think I've gotten used to working. It's exactly like doing my homework back in school, editing articles and papers and writing articles and papers--for 8 hours. This makes me even more sure that, after my stint with the Clocktower next year and possibly the year after, I do NOT want to be a newspaper editor. My dream of being a solo-journalist in conflict zones just got a lot more vivid.
And the fact that Microsoft Word, PublAssist, and the other word processing programs I use insist on changing my last name to "Colanders" makes me nuts.
Still, my third floor window isn't all that bad.
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