The initial part of my day was a brilliant success. What I mean by that is, I got out of bed on time – it’s been a while since I’ve had to leave my cave as early as 7am. In some sense, this was probably the high point of the day, as it got progressively less interesting…
I got a train from Farnham to London at 8.28, which ploughed into Waterloo station at the unhealthy time of 9.19 (usually still sleeping). I wasn’t due to arrive at the Blue Fin building until 10.30, so the 1 hour 11 minute gap might seem a little excessive, but it was all part of my grand plan: limbo time gave me – a) time to get lost, b) time to suppress my nerves with a coffee, caramel shortbread and a cigarette, and c) the advantage of an early arrival, perhaps making a good impression on my first day.
I definitely got a bit lost. After wandering in and out of Waterloo station a few times like a lost sheep, trying to work out which direction I was actually meant to be going, I remembered that I have an iPhone. Hooray for technology! I was soon on the right track after consulting my multifunctional electric friend, arriving at the Blue Fin building for 10.15, leaving plenty of time for another nerve-dispelling cigarette.
At 10.20 I penetrated the Blue Fin through its fancy revolving doors. As I set foot on the freshly buffed floor, I suddenly felt too scruffy to be allowed inside, so quickly flattened down my windswept haystack and approached the front desk. The black security guy standing beside the gates gave me a welcoming smile as if I was a permanent member of staff he enjoyed seeing every day, which was slightly comforting, although he could have just been amused by my dishevelled exterior. I dragged my suddenly weighted legs further toward the desk, ignoring their insistence that I should turn back and run far, far away. After finally announcing myself to the receptionist – whom I later discovered had managed to take an awful photo of me for my gate pass – I found myself sat in a rather comfortable chair waiting for Karen Walter (my contact), as she was yet to arrive. The cleaner was going about her business, which reminded me of how meticulously clean and shiny the building was, and she seemed to keep looking in my direction as if she wanted to clean me as well. I sank down in my comfortable chair, hoping that I might be accidentally swallowed up by the crease at the back and end up back in limbo again – safe from the cleaners, failed photographers posing as receptionists, and nice-but-not-nice security blokes.
About 40 minutes later, I finally got to leave that chair, which at one point had been comfortable, until I had been sat in it for too long. Karen Walter, as the cynical part of my brain had suggested during the extensive wait, was off sick. I was presented with my visitors pass (endorsed with aforementioned terrible picture) and led upstairs to the fourth floor – home to Nuts, Uncut and NME.
I am not the only person on work experience with NME at the moment. They seem to have oversubscribed themselves a bit in terms of space – there’s not very much of it – and more people on work experience can only mean less work for us to do (something I’d usually relish, but this is not one of those occasions). Fortunately, I am the only one placed on the picture desk – the others are doing journalism courses and therefore doing work to suit their field.
Upon entering the office, the five-minute-replacement for Karen was unsure what to do with us, so got us to sort out the mail. I didn’t think I was on a GCSE work placement so saw this as a bit of an insult to my intelligence, but went along with it anyway. It didn’t last long since there were seven of us running post around the room. To make up for the lack of Karen (and a lack of innovation from her five-minute-replacement), one of the other guys on work experience who had already been there for one week, Tom (good name), showed us some of the basics and helped us out where he could, which was nice. After that, I was left to sit at what I seemed to have decided was my desk, equipped with a Mac Mini and a monitor (no keyboard or mouse). I sat for five minutes wondering why my work placement was lame, and then realised I should probably make myself known to the picture desk, since that was why I was there. I came across a floorplan, with all the staff names and their respective locations in the office. The picture desk was conveniently right behind me, and since Zoe Capstick was the first person I had emailed for a placement, it seemed sensible to go speak to her, so I did. She was very helpful, finding me a keyboard and mouse for my computer, sorting out a system login, and finding me something to do. Things were starting to look better. Slightly.
My first task was to find the album artwork for the next issues reviews section. This didn’t really take very long, although it would have taken even less time if the computer didn’t keep forgetting it was connected to the network and ruining my Internet-trawling exercise. No matter, I finished by lunchtime, at which point I went to the Blue Sky Cafeteria on the 11th floor where, much to my excitement, I got myself a fish finger sandwich (the Chef’s Special for the day…they must have known I was coming). After that I checked out the extravagant smoking terrace on 10th, which had a nice view, nice garden and nice benches, making it an all-round nice area for smokers. It was mighty windy though, so I reacquired my windswept haystack.
After lunch, Zoe did not return until a short while after me, so I somehow allowed myself to be accosted by a man from yonder desk, asking if I wouldn’t mind typing up some old articles on Muse for him. I stupidly agreed before I had seen how much I had to do, partly because I’m nice and partly because I wanted something to do. There was much more than I had first anticipated, as it kept me disappointingly occupied until I left at 4.30. Zoe didn’t seem to have anything more for me to do anyway, which was also disappointing because it meant I couldn’t escape the typing. I don’t mind helping people out, but that was a bit ridiculous, especially since I was on a placement with the picture desk, not the writers. Never mind.
All in all, I don’t really know how I feel about today other than a little disgruntled at how dull it was. I hope the rest of my week is not the same because I was quite looking forward to it. I remain instilled with a certain amount of optimism for tomorrow. I can only hope that it shits all over the metaphorical face of today’s letdown exercise.
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