Significant Intern Moment #5+

Truthfully, most of my significant intern moments were boringly sappy. And while it's SO much more fun to self-deprecate, I suppose I should write a bit about the boring sappy too. One reason being that apparently, when a blonde, girl-pop-lovin’ eternal optimist gets too carried away with her dark black self-deprecating humor, people start to worry. Too much cognitive dissonance (yeah, that’s right - I went to GRAD SCHOOL. If I don’t get to spout off an impressive academic term here and there, what’s in it for me?). So sit back and enjoy a little sweet:

ZSA ZSA ZSU
Sometime during that first week of my internship, I sat at my little intern desk juggling a handful of impossible deadlines and cranking out all the crap headlines that pop into my brain before the acceptable ones start taking shape, when I had a thought that I have never ever had, not even once, in all of my 34 years of living: I can’t believe I’m getting paid to do this. And I stopped cold to make sure I’d heard my head right. I’d heard people say this before, but I kind of thought it was a myth. Something people said just because it was a thing to say. Much like I thought being in love was a myth before I actually fell in love for the first time. But, you know what? It’s not a myth. You really can enjoy a job that much. I felt it from head to toe. And it was about time.

WORKING IN THE TRENCHES
A creative intern at this particular agency is not a coffee-making grunt doing stupid jobs. From day one, people treated me like a real person. Like a regular, full-time (albeit junior) writer - same assignments, same expectations, same level of trust and respect. Seven different creative teams genuinely trusted Stupid New Girl to work everything from print to broadcast to online for eight different clients. Including the direct mail campaign where I got to work with a full-time art director on everything from conceptualizing to presenting to the client to getting several pieces produced. And the new web page launch where I was the only writer and only creative and got to present to the client all on my own. It was nice to get things purchased and produced, but even better to learn how and when to stick up for my ideas and push back to the client.


BLOODY HELL, PEOPLE RESPECT ME!
There was the art director from that direct mail campaign who had to put up with every layer of my personality - the new girl freak outs, the early-morning cheerleaderese, the ditziness. I knew we’d gelled as soon as she felt comfortable enough to tell me to “shut up and work please” and to ask me if I could POSSIBLY wear anymore rhinestones. But she also told me that I knew what I was doing, that I was a great writer and that she depended on me. Me!

There was my boss who continually praised me for my writing progress and more importantly, my good work ethic and positive attitude. The last two being even more important to me than being good at writing copy. I'm scandalously dull that way. And when I told him that I found the 45-minute, early morning creative status meeting “fascinating,” I think he fell out of his chair. On his way down, he added, “God bless your bright-eyed eagerness. Don’t ever lose that.”

And there were all the other wonderful creative directors, writers, art directors, account planners and managers that believed in me and encouraged me until the very end. They will never know the significance of that to me. Any copy I might have written for them could never be an equal payback. I can only hope that someday, I will pay it forward to some other clueless intern. Preferably one who wears a lot of rhinestones, takes the stairs to the wrong floor and then wonders why she can’t find the conference room that was there just the other day.




P.S. And just when you thought I couldn’t spin any more sugar, I have one more sappy moment to post. Watch this space.