Interns.

I apologize for my lack of posts recently.  I’m a poor social worker and I just recently moved and have yet to figure out if I can afford internet.

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The office got a new intern this week.  Interns are wonderful for doing the dirty/busy/boring/time-consuming work that the actual employees don’t want/have time to do.  For example, I work for a nonprofit.  As a nonprofit agency we need to find funding sources.  I don’t have time to sit around purusing the internet or dreaming up ideas.  My coworker works with pregnant women and infants up to 1 year old.  She needs a steady source of diapers, formula, blankets, clothing, etc.  She doesn’t have time to find all that on top of her work either.  These are the things we love our interns to do.

Our new intern is an undergraduate social work major.  She’s young and immature in the way that young adults tend to be.  She giggles a lot and seems like she’d fit right in with the popular girls from my high school.  Yes, I’m judging.  Everyone judges.  I tend to judge quietly.  Like, I would never actually say these things out loud or let these first impressions dictate how I treat her as an individual.

Anyway, while my intern and I were waiting for the new intern to arrive, I was printing a bunch of stuff, stuffing envelopes, and all that jazz.  I placed the stuffed envelopes on the new interns desk and put a bunch of stuff in the to-be-filed file.  And I said (out loud), “New Intern can mail those and file those.  Welcome to social work.”  My intern busted out laughing, telling me that was her favorite line of mine.

My intern is nearly done with her placement.  I will miss her when she goes.  She has been a wonderful student, quick learner, and, honestly, I hate filing.  But my intern has brought about a cheeriness in the office.  She’s always so bubbly and happy.  And we can talk real life stuff without those judgments getting in the way.  She has a heart for social work and will do well in whichever career path she chooses.  I’m quite proud of her.

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