I am cold

I am sitting here, wrapped in a blue shawl, with my laptop’s brightness pretty low because if I read anymore words on an aggressively well-lit screen, as I have been doing for the past 4.5 hours, I will have to pluck my own eyeballs out and bury them in a casket just so they can get some rest. The intern life is pretty great, but not so much when you’re always cold and restless for work. Both of which I am.

 

Excuse that. I have been embedding a lot of social media posts the past month and the joy of it just keeps increasing by the day. It is definitely my favourite thing to do. Apart from Instagram-research which is also *pretty* interesting because I’ve got to discover many talented artists and photographers, some of the most beautiful places on earth, and the fact that Indian Instagram has way too many selfies. Seriously, guys. We need to stop.
Five weeks ago, I entered this air-conditoned office with a huge bag of hopes and dreams. Some very strong, very delusional ideas about what it would be like to work at a magazine. Except I don’t understand why I brought those hopes and dreams with me because I am not *really* working at a magazine, am I?
I mean, I am but I’m working as a part of the digital team and boy, I did not expect to be so bad at this.
Just like everybody else around me, I consume shitloads of digital content. Sometimes, I get distracted and start imagining myself with an expanding bald head. The baldness is a metaphor for how empty it actually is. Absolutely nothing worthwhile in there.
Anyway. I thought I’d be comfortable, if not happy, curating content that was meant for scroll-worthy, aesthetic pleasure, until I discovered that I suck at it.
Okay, not really. What I’m trying to say is that I find it a little difficult to write crisp, short sentences. Sentences that dive straight into the matter without any kind of build-up. Either I write stuff that is too bland or I write something that is a little too fancy; the boundaries are a blurry concept and I am still grappling with it.
And because I am struggling with the writing style I consume the most–the irony, I sometimes get disillusioned into believing that I don’t like what I am doing.
So I guess I’ll just have to figure this confusion out with time and experience limping by my side.
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