The Intern Life
Good Lord I've been slow to post here. A 1,001 apologizes for my tardiness in posting, life has gotten a bit hectic for me on a variety of fronts, and hopefully I won't be like that dead-beat dad who goes out to buy "smokes" and comes home 14 years later.
Anyway, a lot of people ask me what it's like to be an intern at The Second City Detroit theatre. I usually lie and tell them a variety of over the top stories involving all-night drinking binges, endless partying, and discounts at a variety of upscale merchandisers like Kohl's or Target. If I told them the truth: I print out labels. I sticker postcards. I take notes. I answer phones, and once in a blue moon I fetch silverware and deal with snarky waitstaff at a certain Thai restaurant, people would be disappointed. I know because I told my mom the truth and she won't even return my phone calls, because she was so disappointed.
But I digress. It's a fun experience no matter what I do, even when I'm forced to put that same snarky waitress in a headlock until she gives me a fork and a knife--and by giving I mean handing it to me and not slipping it into my ribs. Some days you're the drunk; some days you're the noodle.
Today's power mantra to chant: I am loved: zip, zap, zop.
