Next week, Grace will tell us about her first day as an intern for Cosmopolitan magazine.
My summer before senior year was incredible.
I had two internships, one at Every Day with Rachael Ray in NYC three days a week, the other at the Philadelphia City Paper two days a week. On the evenings I was in Philly, I worked as news editor of the Summer Pennsylvanian.
Although much time was spent trying to rest my weary head on Bolt Buses as I went back and forth between cities, I was truly happy. I was happy when I was exhausted, staying late at Rachael Ray because my boss had just quit and I had to teach myself how to add “Fourth of July Barbecue” to the homepage. I was thrilled to walk down Ludlow Street (the one in NYC) on my way back to my apartment, not being able to pass up entering a boutique, a club, or a juice bar. I reconnected with high school friends, met my boyfriend of now six months, got many free drinks, and passed no day without doing, meeting or seeing something new and surprising.
At Penn, life is different.
I’ve developed somewhat of a routine over the past few years. In fact, a very particular routine.
If it’s a weekday, I’m up at 9, shower, get ready and head out of the house. On the way to class, I grab a copy of the Daily Pennsylvanian, then stop into Metropolitan where I get one large coffee. I fill my cup with French roast, add about ¼ cup of soy milk, empty in two Splenda packets, stir, add sleeve, add lid, grab napkins, and drink from two little straws as I continue to walk down Walnut.
In class I sit in the same place: on the right side, near the front so I don’t have to wear my glasses. I take notes with a black pen in the appropriate notebook. I don’t check my phone. Or, I can’t put my phone down. Either way, I find I don’t absorb much and by the end of class I have to pee, very badly.
When class is over I go to sweetgreen. I have a spinach salad with (insert bland vegetables here). Yes to the bread. The cashier reads me the points on my loyalty card, but I never seem to have enough for a free salad. Why was it $13?
I eat in front of the television at home, watching an episode of Real Housewives or Sex and the City that I’ve already watched. After an hour, I leave the house again for class. I again sit on the right side, second row.
If I have a Daily Pennsylvanian article to write, I head straight to the DP offices after class, where I make calls and furiously scribble written notes. When I get hungry, I got to Mizu. One miso soup and one smart roll. Only $13?
Back to the DP. I finish my story and head home. It’s late, and too cold in my house. I edit and post articles to Her Campus, obsess over the numbers of traffic to the HC UPenn site, then do homework in bed until I can no longer function, and fall asleep. Repeat.
Sure, I go out some nights. But every night begins at either City Tap House or Smoke’s and ends at Smoke’s. Sometimes Kweder is there and we all jump around to the cover of “Santeria,” sometimes he’s not and we dance on stage.
In the end, I have a great time with my friends, whether or not they’re the same seven girls I spend every second with. My life is fulfilling: every aced exam or successful story on Her Campus keeps me going.
But I’m bored. I need a break in the routine. I want a change.
So, officially beginning this moment, I refuse to live routine anymore. I’m going to push myself out of my comfort zone, meet new people, eat different lunches and hopefully make some mistakes along the way so you can all laugh about it (with me, not at me) later.
Whether or not you want to hear about, I’m about to update you weekly on my pursuit of NYC summer happiness, taking place (some of the time) right here in University City.
The excitingness will begin tomorrow, when I wake up in t-minus 5 hours to hop on yet another BoltBus to begin my current internship at Cosmopolitan magazine. Can’t wait to tell you all about it.