on second thought

Upon closer consideration, I've realized that the next two weeks are indeed the end of the world as I know it. I've worked before but never for real. I've had some pretty awesome internships - the kind where I get to stand behind important people and see the side of my apple head on the front page of the NYTimes the next day. But they don't count as work because I'm there to have fun and the expectations of a lowly intern are.. well low. Short of committing a crime, you can only exceed their low expectations with your free labor. I was fortunate to work with some really interesting and genuine characters so it never felt threatening. I know that I have been lucky.

Intrigued but with that feeling of dread do I approach this new world called work. I have to get up at an obscene hour and take public transport to the frenzy that is Penn Station and then submerge myself in the panic of the subway to get to Grand Central. There I emerge in a sea of scurrying blurs dwarfed by gorgeous marble, only to purposefully walk in the brisk air to my place of employment.

That I've done before.

What I'm not even closely prepared for is working. I am fairly decent, and maybe even adept at conversation in a social setting. I can even make a phone call when the need arises. I can also give an interview which requires I behave and speak professionally for an abbreviated period of time. I do know that everyone I know doesn't take me seriously. The people who like me have sifted through my unending drivel to discover that all is not lost, and indeed there are some gears turning. The ones who don't like me, well they've given up hope. My friends often chide me for my academic and intellectual bent.. and the chaos that characterizes the rest of my life. How can the same person achieve on paper while being such a buffoon in real life? The ape asks me this all the time. I don't have an answer.

So you see why I am concerned about my upcoming role. I know that I'm in over my head right now with this job, which is confirmed by the fact that, when someone asks me what my new position entails, I can only say I have no idea. Granted, I have some idea, but really, when I try and imagine my day and the people I'll be interacting with I realise I have no clue what to expect. This proves that what people write on their resumes, and employers post about various positions is essentially nonsense.

Like I said earlier, I am intrigued by the new challenge of the unknown, but I think my biggest fear is that I will be disappointed. I don't want to be one of the millions of bloggers who type about how much they hate the people they work with and their jobs and their lives and the girl who sells them coffee. In reality, I think the job, will keep me challenged for long enough.. it's an entry point anyway. My life.. well I'm blessed girl and too cognizant of the opportunities available to me to be miserable about anything serious. I still hate my thighs, though. Okay so I think I'm safe from being the girl who who self-prescribes anti-depressants because she can identify with an eggman who goes around with a cloud following him. Yea, I get pretty depressed, but I can deal with it.

Anyway, my question is, how am I going to start working??? I guess this is really growing up. It seems especially awkward because here I am, in my hometown where I've spent about 15 of my 23 years, and I've never imagined myself anything but a stupid kid. But now, when I go watch my sister play field hockey, I realise - the girls on her team are stupid kids. I am no longer. Ah, it's an identity shift I believe. I'm happy for it, for the most part. I've always felt that guilt that comes from having parents as gracious as mine, and am looking forward to being less of a financial burden on them. I think that's my biggest release.

Well that's my mental vomit for now, I have a pretty gigantic deadline that smells of about 8000 words in the a.m., so I need to get cracking. Goodnight mailbox.