When did I arrive in the land of ummm...?

It seems that upon arriving in DC any sense of grace and etiquette developed in my previous 18 years of life is prone to disappear when I enter a work-related situation. Although I've never been one for poise and posture, it seems I may have stooped to a new low. My new mannerisms seem, at times, to resemble a child in Kindergarten more than a college educated almost adult.


I find myself unable to handle even the most normal of situations like walking and eating. I now seem to enter into hushed rooms in the loudest fashion (i.e. whacking my briefcase into walls and chairs). I also manage to fall repeatedly over flat surfaces (I almost sprained my ankle 9 times; in ONE day). Even eating a sandwich in polite company is somehow a struggle. Note: its never a good thing when food falls down your shirt at a press conference.



Most of my problems though, seem to revolve around my memory. I have found myself, on multiple occasions, walking up to a secretary in order to enquire of an event's location only to completely forget the topic, speaker, or any other information relating to the event. (This typically occurs after I have spent hours looking into the background of the event and creating a research folder on the topic.) Needless to say, this is a rather embarrassing occurrence, one I've brought upon myself every week since I started my internship.


It is especially bad that this has occurred while talking to my editor as well. We will be discussing the main theme my event for that day in order to help me develop an adequate lede, and I will have no recollection of who the main speaker was, or even what group put on the event. I am left to stand there with only the word "umm..." being uttered from my lips. It's disheartening at times and typically it sets the tone for that day, leading to me struggling with the rest of my article.


Another problem I have is when editing a draft. I try and pay so much attention to everything my editor tells me, that I loose all the details she asks me to fix. This leaves us both frustrated. I'm frustrated because I failed; she's frustrated because I'm wasting her time. It has come to the point where I have made the same type of major omission in my articles so many times that my editor has threatened to make me by coffee for the office if I continue to do so. An idle threat I'm sure, but it definitely makes her point.


Although these many fashion faux pas and disconnects in my memory have been personally devastating and surprisingly frequent, they have not colored my entire DC experience in a negative light. I know that screwing up and learning are all part of the journey that my semester here in the capitol is meant to be. Interns are supposed to come in knowing nothing, although the goal is that by the end, they will know a little bit of something. Hopefully the frequency of my errors will decrease, proving I've learned something not just about Journalism but about myself as well.