9:30 Pick up work experience insurance, think to self: “half an hour is PLENTY of time to get to the other side of Central”.
9:35 Get food.
9:40 Check email while eating.
9:43 Give money to awesome accordion busker wearing jester hat in the tunnel.
9:44 Power walk through tunnel. Still plenty of time, but still.
9:54 Emerge from tunnel, realise there are no street signs, shrug shoulders and think: "Well it’s not like there are THAT many streets right next to Central Station. How can this NOT on the right street?"
9:56 Realise that I am, indeed, NOT on the right street and start to panic.
9:58 See men in business suits, and with obvious logic, decide to follow them.
9:59 Make it into building JUST IN TIME. Float through doors feeling good like everything’s just fine.
10:00 Only to realise I have to line up to sign in anyway >sigh<
Okay, so I love this magazine. Really. Its shiny pages and clean, modern layout that is glamorous and intelligent while being down-to-earth, plus excellent writing and appealing topics are part of the reason I was attracted to journalism in the first place. The fact that a comedian whom I like very much periodically appears in its pages doesn’t hurt either.
Which means that if work experience here were crap – I’d be depressed. VERY depressed. It’d be meeting your favourite actor after having adored them for twenty years and realising they’re a complete idiot.
But it wasn’t crap, thank goodness. MK, the person in charge of me/does something to do with editorial, took me with her to get a coffee and we had a nice chat, I asked her what her role was exactly and she asked me about my part-time job. MK seems to be a really lovely person, and I’m glad she’s looking after me. Everyone else in the office seemed lovely too – I was only introduced to two other people in the all-female office (although funnily enough, when we had cake later in the afternoon, a man appeared) and they were funny, chatty and nice. Which helped me not feel like the biggest outsider/retard in the world. Excellent.
I had this expectation that I would be photocopying all day and generally being slave labour (see first post) and that would be fine because then they’d see I didn’t mind doing the boring jobs and they’d say something about a “good work ethic” yadda yadda yadda. But whoopee! I got to do * real * work. Not that I mind doing the boring jobs but still – who wouldn’t prefer transcribing interviews over photocopying? Especially interviews from a show that possibly has more crazy wackadoodle nuts than this season’s Big Brother! That sort of made up for the fact that I was doing it for SIX HOURS. (With lunch break and copious amounts of toilet breaks in between – there’s only so long you can listen to people blather about themselves. Really!)
And at the end of the day I got an early mark. So yes, it was fun. Yes, it was repetitive. Yes, I became a little crazy after transcribing interviews for six hours, (work experience insurance doesn’t cover mental health, does it?) but from what I can see so far, I’m going to really enjoy the place.