"Working"

As much as I hate to admit it, the halfway point of my Australian adventure has come and passed. It’s been almost ten weeks since I called each family member one last time from my gate at SFO before powering down my cell phone until May. And the time has flown by.

The next five weeks will be based out of Sydney. While it’s true that I have lived in Sydney since my arrival here, the first seven weeks our program offered three day weekends which allowed us to travel within Australia, hence the adventures to the Gold Coast, the Blue Mountains, Melbourne, and Fraser Island. Now I have class on Mondays and work in Sydney Tuesday through Friday, so my deep exploration of the city has only just begun. Our travel adventures in this half of the program are more limited, but stay tuned: We’re scuba diving the Great Barrier Reef in just a few weeks!

The first week of my internships (yes, plural) fared well for me. I spend Tuesdays and Wednesdays doing creative writing for a dating newsletter. One of my favorite parts of this internship is the office. The office is great mostly because it’s not an office and therefore very conducive to creativity. On the second story of the second oldest building in Sydney is a room with a large window that opens from top to bottom, a single desk and a chair. Outside the window, a man dressed in colonial costume rings his bell about every hour and makes an announcement about the neighborhood’s events of the day as if it were still 1880. An outside café is our backyard, and below, American Mike runs bicycle tours of Sydney. Knowing of the reputable advertising and insurance companies that house my fellow classmates as interns, my boss (one of two people beside myself who work for the company) apologized again and again for the lack of professionalism the office offered. Feeling the breeze flutter through the open window onto my shoulders, I assured her that a corporate office is not what I’m looking for and gladly sat down for the day’s work. At 4:15 p.m. my boss inquired, upon learning that I had yet to experience the Israeli chocolatier, Max Brenner, “Katelyn, what do you say we get out here, grab some hot chocolate and head home?” I couldn’t think of a better plan.

Onto internship number two: a women’s magazine. I was worried that after a wonderful Tuesday-Wednesday experience my second internship wouldn’t measure up. I’m happy to tell you that, despite an embarrassing start, I am equally fond of this work experience.

On day one I met the crew—the writers, the design team, the editor, and everyone had one question: where are you from? When I said California I received the usual, “I was just in L.A.!” One writer had just been on assignment in Los Angeles, San Diego and Palm Springs writing a travel article. I asked to read it, and she excitedly handed it over. I gave the pictures a once over—a “California Highway 101” sign, her doing yoga on the beach, et cetera. I began to read the article. Like a true Northern California gal, her adventures in L.A. didn’t’ invoke any strong feelings of home for me, but as she began to describe driving down the 101 to San Diego to the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ “Californication” blaring through the car speakers, I was surprised to find tears in my eyes. Apparently, her words hit home. I have not considered myself homesick during my time here, except for in small, quickly passing spurts, so these tears of apparent sadness were met with a feeling of great surprise. However, if I thought I was surprised, you should have seen the look on my new co-workers’ faces.

One of my favorites of the office remarked, “Oh my god! You made the intern cry on her first day!”

I laughed, assured them that I was emotionally stable and commented to the author that her writing had truly captured the essence of California and had transported me the 7500-miles home. Still, I’m pretty sure crying isn’t on the list of Ways To Make A Good First Impression.

So while I’m keen on both of my internships, the downside of working (besides the actual working part!) is how quickly time flies when you are on a schedule—constantly scanning the calendar, planning for the coming weeks. I’d prefer to throw watches and calendars out that beautiful, open window, but then I remember that this is school and not vacation, that these writing assignments will be edited and published, not graded, so I happily accept the responsibilities. As someone who struggles with but believes in living in the moment, I despise countdowns (especially the kind that end with “you leave Australia.”), so I won’t say anything more about the days I have left. I’ll just say this: I’m planning on going out with a bang.