First day of my internship and according to mom, I’m already running late. By the time I enter the lift I’m already sweating and looking slightly disheveled thanks to the congested metro. The lift opens on the 8th floor and the neon yellow words reveal themselves “The Quint”. I’m equal parts excited, for my first ever industry experience, and anxious, what if I mess something up?
I enter the office calm and composed, 15 minutes before time, don’t want to seem too eager but not complacent either. After being assigned to the health desk I am briefed, and needless to say I am all ears. My brain is whirring with ideas and stories that I could pitch. I immediately get to work, it’s my time to shine. I did my best research and scoured through health websites for the most unique story pitches.
Interning at a huge digital magazine wowed my relatives and friends back home but calling it glamorous was a stretch. Nobody tells you about the million rejected ideas, the thousand edits that you must put your story through or even the massive amounts of grunt work you have to do, translating and transcribing interviews when you know you are destined for bigger things.
Even though my first week was dull and drab in a few places, I settled into a comfortable routine. I accomplished some things, from something as simple as finding may way to the coffee machine to getting a byline and pitching a brilliant story idea. So far, so good.