First read this. Munch's explanation of the hellish thing we had to do over the last summer.
Sigh. If only i could go back in time. Where would i go you ask? Well, I'd go back to the moment that i was born and then i would take a knife and become "crazy-lady-who-stabs-newborn-infant". yes, i would kill myself. And this is why.
Today was the second day of the hellish thing we have to do this summer and let me tell you I'd be happier in a vat of cockroaches and that creepy boy in ninth standard whom (who?) noone liked.
i was in an ad agency. I'm not gonna name it because, well, i wouldn't want those people to lose business over a post on my blog that has a million viewers. now that that little fantasy is over, the name's Xebec.
*takes deep breath* Because i need this to continue and to not go into paraxosyms(? haha!) of an absolute mental nature! Today's only saving grace was that it was actually a tad, a smidgeon really, no a speck. Wait....a DUSTMITE) better than yesterday. Chronologically ordered account follows. I suggest you take deep breath as well and attain comfortable position for a VERY long rant.
Yesterday: I call the 'man' at nine thirty asking him what time "would be best to come into the office". He says very politely, "any time". I should've gotten a hint from that vague answer but i'm a little thick when it comes to things like this. In retrospect, I'm amazingly insightful. But in the moment i'm thick.
So i saunter into the office at around ten thirty and am greeted by a clueless receptionist who looks absolutely thrilled when the phone rings mid-conversation with me. So it went:
"Yes, hello! I'm here for an internship"
(and i quote) "EH?"
I was very eloquent at this point. "Internship? I'm here for that."
"ah" he pretends to understand but then there's an awkward pause where i am staring at him and he at me and we both come to realizations at the same time:
I realize that he, in fact, hasn't understood and he realizes that I know he doesn't have a clue.
Man looks utterly relieved and picks up. I'm just standing there, counting to five while he sticks up one supercilious finger in my face.
Finally, after much ado, I am met by the general manager, the very sweet and vague man whom i had spoken to on the phone and he tells me he doesn't have time to brief me since he is very very busy with a project. i reheally didn't mind considering that if he was VERY VERY busy, then his second-in-command was VERY busy and that meant that the bottom feeders in the office were just plain busy. Then at least some of that 'busy' should pass down to me right? I was good to go! Raring to learn, you might say. (Yes, me)
He introduced me to a woman who took me to her desk and gave me a small talking to. Then she gave me a small stapled bunch of leaflets and asked me to come up with ideas.
Task assigned : 11:01
Task completed: 11:35
Outcome: Twiddling of thumbs till 2:oo pm.
I didn't do ANYTHING for the next two and a half hours! Just sat there, wishing the office would explode in a shower of ash and screams. (In most scenarios i was the suicide bomber)
At this point, the woman notices that my thumbs are sore bloody stumps from all the twiddling and says "You live nearby no? You can go home for lunch if want"
Me (mid explosion in imaginary suicide bombing no 74): "Reaaly? Ok! For how long?"
"One hour, one and a half hours" (my god! these people want to get rid of me BAD)
"Ok, I'll be back at three thirty?"
I returned at three forty five to find that the building had been blown up. No, that was just vile imagination.
I got another task in the afternoon that went on for the better part of the next morning as well.
I got to: *drumroll*
look through a HUMONGINORMOUS bundle of Times supplements for real estate ads of some Bangalore townships.
Someone should've just struck me with a lightning bolt.
Today: A dustmite better than yesterday.
On a completely different matter, I am working for another ad agency starting tomorrow.