"We've all been there." // "Everyone has to do it" // "Once you're 'in', you're 'in'."
And though we all know these things are true they hardly prepare you for the ups and downs of interning. I've been an intern for a while now, since I graduated in July 2010, and still have no idea about my future, which is why I have decided to write this blog. I needed somewhere to bounce out my frustrations, my exhaustion and my optimism. I am choosing to remain anonymous to allow me to be completely honest about my experiences, I won't be naming names, I won't be divulging specific details, but I will be your fly on the wall.
Currently I can be found in magazine offices and fashion cupboards across London desperately trying to carve out my career. Let me just take this opportunity to say I am not some little rich girl, typing this in a dingy flat in East London, moaning about how unfair life is, then phoning my Dad for some more money before going out tonight and getting shitfaced. I am extremely lucky that my parents live in London, and let me live with them rent free while I'm trying to 'make it'. I am constantly broke, and when I say broke I mean it. I haven't had a paid job since September 2010 when I quit my summer retail job to become a full-time intern. Never in those heady money-to-burn-student-loan-days did I imagine that the Big Issue bloke would one day have more dosh then me. If I want to go out and buy some new clothes I have to sell the old ones on eBay. Occasionally I do get handouts from my parents when they can no longer bare to hear me moaning about how long the queue in the post office was but that's as good as it gets. Nights out are dependant on PR invites and plus 1s.
Currently I am between placements. I finished at my last publication just over a week ago, but like a bad boyfriend, they keep calling, and I keep going back. Why? Because there is a PAID position going there, but the truth is, even if the paid position didn't exist I'd still keep going back in the hope someone there might pluck me from beneath a pile of returns.
Internships are the same as bad boyfriends, they never call you when they say they will, then they screw other girls behind your back while you make excuses for them.
What I'm having the most trouble with at the moment is managing the expectations of family and friends. Nothing like industry outsiders to wipe out your excitement about that new placement, no matter how prestigious.
"That's amazing! How much are they paying?!"
Excitement is zapped away as you explain for the millionth time that paid positions are currently non-existent in this 'economic climate' and that this is your life for the foreseeable future. It's hard not to punch them in their well-meaning faces as you scream
"HOW MANY TIMES?! WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE PLEASED FOR ME?!"
- Phew, I'm feeling better already.