When I roll over in my bed the next morning, I note with irritation that my bedroom ceiling has clear water damage. It is a fleeting thought in my mess of a nervous mind as I stumble around, pulling on panty-hose and trying to appear a hell of a lot more professional than I am.
All of these internships I've been interviewing for are wholly pointless, in no way advancing my nonexistent career. I haven't even decided on a career path yet, let alone taken steps towards it. My only goal is to reduce my crushing workload from school. And since most of these internships are paid, it's a bit of a bonus as well. Three shifts a week waitressing at Hemingway's Bar up the street has not been cutting it for me.
I don't need to increase the debt of money that I have borrowed from my parents; independence has taken quite a toll on my bank account.
The interview that I'm going for today is by far the most promising. It synchs up almost perfectly with my school schedule already, it pays more than the other two I've interviewed with, and it's a small enough job that I won't be overwhelmed. "Personal Assistant" is not exactly internship-worthy, but who am I to decide that? There might be people out there whose entire life's goal is to be someone's personal assistant. In that case, such a thing would be perfect.
This is not that case, but it will do for now.
I can't help the nerves as I drive into the city limits of Chicago; I am not used to interviewing for something that I actually want. The building is intimidatingly large, but at least I've done my research on it. My annoying new neighbor had taken the liberty of reorganizing my post-its, but I got them back in order and still had enough time to review the information before bed.
The company that I'm interviewing with today specializes in digital media. It is an advertising company, a successful one, but what drew me to it was not its large scale money making operations. What really pulled me to this company was its generous charity involvement. I would like to surround myself with people who give to others, as opposed to a company where the leaders think only of themselves.
They seem to be expecting me when I walk into the front lobby. "Miss Williams?" A woman asks warmly, extending her hand as I approach her. She introduces herself as Erica Johnson, secretary. I shake her hand as I gaze at my surroundings, trying hard not to gawk. Everything is sleek black and white, very modern and clean cut. It is beautiful, too beautiful. Enough to be intimidating.
"So today you'll be interviewing with Dana Hawksley, if you end up taking the internship, she will be your overseer." She laughs a little before lowering her voice. "Really she would be your boss, they just don't want us using that word," she nudges me conspiratorially.
We take the elevator up at least nine floors, I am too nervous to count. Erica Johnson leads me down a hallway and points to a door, obviously the door of the most important person who works on this floor.
"That's Mrs. Hawksley's office," she says. "You can go in and wait for her, she'll be here soon. You'll get brownie points for being early."
I nod my head tersely.
"Relax, Kate. She's really great, I'm sure she'll love you."
"Thank you," I say with a genuine smile. I feel like hugging her.
As she turns around, I take another deep, steadying breath before pulling down on the door handle and entering the vacant room.
Only it is not vacant.
There is someone sitting in the chair at the desk, clearly awaiting my arrival. His feet are propped up on the desk and his arms are folded across his chest, a wide smirk on his face.
I almost step back out of the room before his most prominent feature catches my attention and I immediately recognize him.
Because not that many people have purple hair.
