Get up. Familiar faces. Go to uni. Familiar places. Come home. Familiar sounds. Go out. Familiar town. The familiarities keep us locked inside. They are killing me.
Something had died there while I sat hunched over my 2500 word major essay; my spirit and enthusiasm for journalism.
I log out of Facebook and head straight to Google. I type the words internships and then erase it. I type again; international internships. Little did I know where this search would take me.
One click of my mouse effectively changed my life. Within a week, after a rigorous over the phone interview, I was hurriedly pushing my VISA through. Even the old hag at the British Consulate couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. I would soon be leaving her, and the endless monotony behind. (For more info on how Megan organised this in a mere two weeks, check out her article on Dream Careers)
Predicted travel time: 25 hours, no stopovers.
Actual travel time: 35 hours, emergency stopover in Amsterdam.
Arrive in London. Watching as a taxi pulls up I squeal with delight and then promptly shut up. Gosh I’m already looking like such a tourist.
“Ello luv, first tyme en London iz et?” asks the taxi driver.
“Sorry?” is my response. Don’t tell me you understood that.
I arrive at Nido which is the largest student accommodation complex in London that houses 1500 students at any one time. It is impressive.
I swipe my door card and I hear the lock click open. My heart gives a little jump as I realise I am about to meet the girl I will be living with for the next nine weeks. Is there such a thing as friendship at first sight? Because if there is I am madly in friendship. We even get to such a level of comfortability with each other that we are peeing with the door open. Like I said; best friends.
Work begins the next morning and somehow I manage to get myself downstairs by 7:30am despite the debilitating jet lag that I am feeling, and those five pints of beer I consumed on my first pub experience in London.
I arrive at CNBC headquarters wearing a new suit, my hair is swept back into a sleek ponytail and I have my only pair of fancy bras on. Confidence exudes from my every pore. And then I walk in.
Distinguished, immaculate beings saunter around the spacious lobby all either consumed by the mornings news in the Financial Times, soon to become my bible, or typing away on their blackberries. I take the lift up to the sixth floor and as the doors open I take a deep breath and simply smile.
I am met by Fiona, the producer for the “World Wide Exchange” program. She shows me around the office and introduces me to everyone. I join the “Closing Bell” team. For the first few days my duties include mainly cutting video for the stories airing that day. But by the end of the month I am confidently calling up CEO’s from Barclays Bank and getting their take on the market responses to the day’s events.
Work days are long, but they are exciting. Each day brings new stories. The most prominent news stories during my time at CNBC are the BP oil spill and the European banks stress tests. The latter is a huge deal for CNBC with some of the newsteam actually sleeping on the floor of the newsroom the night before the results would be released.
But my time in London is far from spent entirely at the office; I’d be buggered if I was sleeping on the floor of the office every night.
My internship at CNBC will remain one of the best things I have ever done and would not take it back for the world- or for the pass grade I missed out on by failing to attend the Media Law exam.