Interning

I wake up and dress myself in the most professional of outfits. I choose the blazer and business slacks and throw on some flats. My hair dries to perfection, and I get ready to leave. My lunchbox is in my hand, and I ensure that my name badge is ready to whip out as I walk in the office.

I begin to leave. But first, I take off the flats and stick on some tennis shoes. I begin to sweat as I leave the apartment, so my hair in a bun is the new look for the office. My blazer comes off, I grab my backpack, adorned with a Nalgene and lots of airport tags, and now I am ready for the trek.

My walk to Parliament each morning is about a 30 minute walk. It isn't too bad now, while the weather is decent and lots and lots of people are walking in to work as well. After my first morning of finding myself on the wrong streets, I haven't had any more problems.

Once I arrive at Parliament, I sit down on a bench outside and try to make myself look professional again-the tennis shoes have to go, and the blazer goes back on. I grab my name tag and walk in the spinny glass doors. I swipe my badge across the scanner, and I'm in. Up the escalator and to the left, down one hallway, and I am the first office on the left. Then, here I sit until I receive an email telling me of meetings to attend. Sometimes I am courageous enough to go knock on the door of my supervisor and offer my assistance- This has never led to any further tasks. Sometimes it is  Strasbourg week, and everyone is out of town.

This is a learning experience full of some crazy busy running around days from meeting to meeting (and other days not so much busy/no busy actually at all). My hand writes as quickly as it can in order for me to remember some of the information. Sometimes they have coffee at meetings. Ooh so exciting! It turns out if you dump enough milk in coffee, it tastes great and keeps you entertained. Also, I get to wear a headset. No, not to make phone calls and to look like a secretary, but rather to have every speaker's words translated just so I can have a clue. The words fly off of committee members' tongues, so I get the brief translated versions of each speech.

Well, the lights have turned off in my office, and there are no protests to watch outside of my window today. I guess it's time to grab those tennis shoes and kick it. I have to head to VeCo, Vesalius College, a prestigious institution for scholars like myself.

Bye Parliament. See you tomorrow. I'll be back with probably the same outfit.


Stay tuned for stories from my weekend in Switzerland. My glutes and shins are still feeling it from my mountainous descents.