If you had of asked me back on my first day of journalism school, that eager young Stella who couldn't wait to get started, where I expected to be three years from now... I guarantee you could have asked me 100 times, and in none of those scenarios would I have ever expected to be here.
I really thought that my degrees in journalism and film would get me a really cool job. Maybe as a news anchor, covering world events. Something that would leave me feeling completely fulfilled, something that would leave a mark on the world. But here I was, finished school and interning at a gossip magazine, fetching coffee and photo copying documents all day long. Yes, I understand you have to work your way up in these industries, but I was putting my experience as the Barista at Starbucks to better use than my actual education. I had spent way too much time and money for this to be it for me. Not to mention the student loans I needed to pay off.
My boss, Elise, was sitting at her desk, scorlling frantically on her iPad with one hand, typing away on her Mac with the other, chatting into her iPhone that she had pressed up to her ear with her shoulder. Yeah, you could say she was kind of an apple fan. She muttered something about not being able to find anything into the phone and then hung up, letting out a frustrated huff of air. She must have been looking for a huge scandal. I cleared my throat to remind her that she had summoned me.
She looked up, startled, and then frowned when she realized it was me. "What do you want?" She barked as she pushed a long strand of her hair behind her ear. I opened my mouth to respond but she beat me too it. "Oh right. Coffee." She ordered, looking back to the computer screen. Elise was a horrid boss and she was especially horrid on Mondays.
"Right away," I responded, heading to the small kitchenette shared by our floor. The only condolence I could offer myself was the fact that today was my last Monday here. After two long months I was almost done with my internship. I got to go home for a glorious three month summer before heading back to try and find an actual job.
Making Elise's coffee was my biggest responsibility here, as sad as that was. I mixed in the milk and sweetener, stirring it well. God forbid it wasn't stirred enough.
"Here you go," I said as I held the mug in her direction.
She looked up at me with bored expression. "Can you just lay it there?" She motioned to the coaster at the edge of her desk. I did as directed and she shooed me out, saying she was in a rush to figure something out. I'm not really sure how Elise got in the position that she was, but I was willing to bet it was through connections. She was always interviewing big celebrities and I thought it was weird because she had about as much people skills as my pet goldfish.
You think she'd actually be a model, rather than writing about them. She was a tall blonde haired blue eyed beauty, the perfect look in this industry. She dressed like she belonged on a catwalk everyday, her outfits always accompanied by four or five inch heels that I'd never be able to walk in. It's unfortunate she had such a wicked personality, because she truly was a beautiful woman.
I sat down at my desk, unsure of what to do next. That's how most of my days around here. Sitting around waiting for Elise to need something. After a while I rummaged through my purse until I located my phone. I ushered off a quick text to my ex boyfriend about how awful Elise was being today. I know it's kind of weird to communicate on that level, but with Max things were different.
We had met on my first day of college; his best friend was dating my roommate. For over two years things were perfect. Until Max got a full paid scholarship to play football for University of Tennessee. The long distance thing went on for six months, but we eventually decided it was too much stress for both of us to handle. We never stopped text messaging, and I think because we ended on such a good note (sans drama) it was really hard for me to get over him. I had loved him for so long. I had no horrible memories of why we broke up to convince me we made the right choice...all I had were good ones that constantly made me miss him.
