So Long, Farewell...

I am in a nostalgic mood today.

Yesterday was my last day at yet another internship, and I found myself leaving it with a strange mix of pleasure and disquiet.

It is always a good feeling to know that I am finally free from doing people's dirty work, getting up early and returning home late to the tune of £50 a week. Until the next one of course.

At the end of my more depressing internships, I tended to shoot out of the building with cries of "I'm free! I'm free!" as soon as I was out of earshot.

But even in places that have just been so-so, there is an odd feeling of sadness. Maybe it's just because I am particularly resistent to change. I get used to going to the same place every day, and seeing the same people. I am comfortable in a routine.

It is almost easy to fool yourself into thinking you actually work there, as you become familiar with the building, know where the loo is, start leaving pens and empty water bottles at your desk each night.

It's rather like that point in a relationship when it's ok to start leaving your Nivea face wipes in the bathroom.

And then suddenly, that's it. It's over. You are ousted from your seat and thrown out with the recycled paper.

And no matter how much you convince yourself that "this one was special," "this time it was different," in reality come Monday morning some other tart will be sitting in your desk and using your Nivea face wipes.

Or something.

Then there are the relationships you form with people. It seems like it's always in that last week of an internship that you really feel like you know the people there.

You think you have it made - "hey, these guys are my friends! We like each other! We have a Connection!"

But in actual fact you end the internship and really, what have you got?

Of course there are the cheerful promises to Keep In Touch. "Do write and let us know what you're doing!"

But come, isn't it just a bit weird to be sending bi-monthly updates?

[Cue overly-keen voice]

"Hey guys. How's it going? Watcha up to?"

The thing is, unlike a regular employee who has been there for a veritable length of time and is on the same level as them, the truth is you are not really friends with these people. You are just one link in a long chain of people who make up the job title known as Intern.

But still.

Sigh.

They gave me a card.

A card.

I've never been given a card from an internship before...

I shall clutch it to my breast, and remember the good times...