Day 3 and feeling like a badass

After experiencing a few amazing, inspiring, and absolutely exhausting days at my first internship (and first job outside of a fast food restaurant and baby-sitting...) I decided I needed to document my experience.
If you consider getting paid to watch Spongebob Squarepants with seven-year-olds a job, then I've been in the workforce since i was eleven. If you consider bagging chicken, faking british accents in a drive-thru headset, and wearing a giant cow costume as a job...then I've been in the workforce since I was seventeen. If you consider a 9-5 as a job...then I've been in the workforce for less than a week....and if getting paid is a stipulation....then.....I'm still not in the workforce.
I am an intern at the Chicago Sun-Times for the summer. And, before you ask..the only coffee I get is my own, and I don't even know where the copy machine is. I am doing legitimate work, meeting amazing people, and learning more than I ever thought possible. And by the way, I'm nineteen.
Having this position and still being in my teens says many things, a few examples being:
1. No, I can not go out for drinks after work.
2. I'm wearing Anthropologie dresses and Tory Burch flats instead of slacks from New York & Company and sweater sets from Coldwater Creek
3. This is an incredible opportunity for me to have at my age.
So, people either don't give me the time of day, congratulate me on scoring the internship, or ask (in the best way possible) "how the hell did you get this job?" 
And you know, I don't know how I got this job.
Well. I know the mechanics. I sat in a coffee shop over Spring Break with my dad for an hour or so making my resume and several hours in the library at my college laboring over cover letters for about fifteen companies. I spent an excessive amount of time perfecting my interview outfit, and made myself so nervous I almost had an anxiety attack on the Metra when commuting to the interview. I don't actually remember anything I said during the actual interview...I just remember looking around like a tourist in the Sun-Times office at the rows of cubicles and piles of newspaper where I would soon spend 32 hours a week. So it was the average process. But how did I get selected? Who knows.
I love writing and I made that clear. I sent twenty pages of my writing along with my resume that can be credited to learning that I loved writing in the first grade thanks to "Mr. Z" and refining the skill as a slave in IB my last two years in high school.
So I went to college armed with my passion and a huge dislike for my southern roots, which prompted me to find a way to remain in the [freezing] midwest for the summer....and what better way to do that than get an internship? At the Sun-Times? Yes please!!!!!!
I was offered the position about 15 minutes before I was supposed to go to my economics class...and I skipped it to celebrate. I couldn't let 90 minutes of Econ bring me down from my gigantic ego boost.
So here I am...laying in my dorm, watching Gossip Girl, and staring at a huge pile of clothes I threw on the floor when trying to decide how to dress myself for work the past few days. Naturally, I decided to start this blog instead of pick up my room.
I'm still like a little kid on Christmas going into work. I'm excited about things like having my own badge, phone, computer and desk, the security guy knowing my name, and knowing how to get the bathroom door unstuck. My boss called me on my phone three times today and every time it rang I felt like a badass. Oh, and walking around Chicago on my lunch break makes me feel really awesome. So does walking out of the train station and into the cyclone of businessmen. The only thing I lack is the tennis shoes instead of work shoes on my walk to my building...I haven't gotten that legit yet. Although I'm convinced that the fact that I have my own voicemail message set up beats my lack of working girl shoes...not that anyone will ever call me without me answering on the first ring.