Woke up far later than I should have, it's pouring outside. Briefly contemplate whether or not the rain is a legitimate excuse for being late for work. Decide to suck it up and go, figuring I'll probably be late anyway. Loan my umbrella to my roommate (not really registering that this means that I won't have one), arrive at work only moderately soaked.
There is officially no longer a desk for me, so I sit on the floor with my laptop in the intern room. We have our morning meeting, I'm assigned to monitor a survey tonight in Mountain Standard Time (meaning it's going to start later than it would if it was EST), so it's going to be a late night. I consider that maybe I'll get a Chipotle burrito for lunch and eat the other half for dinner, but then I remember that work provides us with dinner if we work late. About 20 minutes after that, I get an email saying goodies in the kitchen.
Come back to the intern room double fisting one of each of these babies. Sumia, another intern, feeds me one of her cookies because I sit on the floor next to her desk, and I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm a puppy.
Stomach ache. Too much morning sugar. I continue working and try to ignore the confusion happening in my belly. 30 minutes goes by. Pili, another intern, walks by the door and says she's going to the kitchen and asks if anyone wants anything. I ask what she's getting and she tells me she's going for nachos. Thinking that maybe my stomach will settle if I balance the salt to sugar ratio, I go "ooh yeah, I want that." She comes back with a Tupperware box full of chips and salsa. The chips are greasy and loaded with healing power for my digestive system (I must've been right about the ratio thing), so I go back for more.
Come back with a plateful, and a bunch of salsa. I wonder if I got too little salsa for the number of chips on my plate, but I decide that if I'm frugal, I can probably make it work.
After this, I feel motivated. I put in my headphones and get on a roll. I'm so focused, I feel like I don't even need to stop for lunch, I can just work and work and work forever and not get tired. So naturally, when Pili stops in and asks if anyone wants to get food, I close my computer and go with her to the Union Station food court.
I don't feel any preference, and I'm not actually that hungry when I get there, so she decides Subway and I go with. I get a classic 6-inch turkey sub on Italian Herbs and Cheese; lettuce, tomato, oil and vinegar, salt and pepper. They don't serve avocado on subs outside of California apparently, which is probably why my Subway sandwiches have been infinitely less delicious since going to college, but it's a fairly cheap sandwich, so I feel okay about it.
 |
| Except more squished and empty. |
Anyway, so I take my time eating this sandwich. All of a sudden I'm feeling lethargic. I negotiate with Pili to steal her desk while she sits on the floor though, so I set up at a docking station so that I can use my laptop with an additional monitor. I get to work pretty quick, test a survey a couple times (make a couple ingenious edits, of course), and collect more newsclips. This time I'm really distracted though, I Gchat with everyone I can get ahold of, read a few random Slate articles, and set up a LinkedIn profile (and consequently cry about how pathetic I am).
When she's walking by, Katie tells me she made Funfetti cookies (made out of the Funfetti cake mix). I'm not even hungry, but I'm so intrigued that I go to the kitchen to get one.
By the time I get there, they are gone. To console myself, I get another plate of chips and salsa. There is almost no salsa left, but I pour out the dregs onto my plate, because I am Mexican after all.
At this point, Mara has left, so I move back into the intern room (into my own desk!). I decide I've been working too hard, so I take a break to bum around on Facebook. Nothing of note happens. I watch a video of Meg Whitman's housekeeper crying because of the way she was treated in their household and want to punch things. I slow-motion punch Sumia, but she isn't amused or understanding. While she's yelling at me, I notice something on her desk, a little glimmer of hope....
I DEMAND to know where she got it ("YUM. Where? Please?"), and she directs me toward the front desk. There are mini Whoppers and Milk Duds, obviously the last picks of the bag. I get one of each. While walking by the kitchen, I stop by for another entire plate of chips.
45 minutes later, not surprisingly, all this food is gone.
At this point, I start to feel about myself, and start writing this post. Sumia tells me to stop complaining, she ate the same thing. I keep doing my clips, people walk in and out, and time continues to pass fairly steadily. At about 6:30, I get the email asking for dinner orders and client codes. We're ordering Italian...I'm so screwed. I consider ordering a salad, but their salads sound like a piece of iceberg lettuce with some tomatoes and chicken, so I decide 'whatever, today I am going binge like nobody has binged before, and that's just that.' I order tortellini with pink sauce.
I monitor my survey. It takes forever. Sumia leaves. On her way out the door, she throws me her Hershey's bar and goes "dessert!" I cry of pain/joy.
The food takes forever to come. Finally, I get the delivery call, and Andy runs downstairs to collect. I've promised myself before dinner that I will not finish it and instead take it home, but it's REALLY good, and by the time I get to it, there's no stopping me. Andy offers me some of his calamari, which he says he loves "because it reminds me of chicken gizzard." I choke a little, but he's right, it's delicious.
Anyway, I am now post-tortellini, ready to roll myself home. The Hersheys dessert will have to wait. Here's to hoping its not raining anymore!
No comments:
Post a Comment