Guess what?

I actually got myself an internship for next semester! Shoot the applause! I mean, not getting one would have been very bad, seeing as it's compulsary and there's nothing else to do, but hey, it's still good news!

Moreover, and I expect a drumroll for this, the internship is far far away from where I live, so I am going to M O V E to....Hamburg, Germany, kind of really in the north (so I'll be freezing cold from September to February, but that's nothing new, really)! Now you may be rolling your eyes and yawning and asking yourself when the fun part is going to start, but let me assure you that it is indeed going to be an entertaining sight to watch me try and handle life aaaall byyyyy myyyyseeeelf, for the following reasons:

I have no clue as to how to operate a washing machine, nor a dishwasher, nor those sci-fi vacuumers that creep around the floor doing they're own thing. I'm actually a bit scared of the latter (it's moving! It's beeping! It's getting stuck under stuff!) It may sound bratty, but it's the undeniable truth.

I don't think I ever slept a single night in a house or apartment by myself. Even at summer camp, when I had a single room, there were kids I knew right behind the wall. Again, roll away, I just never happened to be alone at night. Woops.

I hate complete silence when I am alone; even when I was little, I would put on children's tapes on my cassette player, not neccessarily to listen to them, but to make for some background noise. I still do that with music, or YouTube videos about the manufacturing of ballet shoes or whatever, and sometimes, I'll even chatter to myself (I'm sorry you had to learn this) or, more sensibly, I'll sing. Like really training my chords. I wonder if the neighbours are gonna like my taste in songs. The best possible case would be a producer living down the hall who's gonna whisk me away to the studio, stat. The worst case, however, would be if said producer (or anyone, really) feels I insult their musical ear and votes to throw me out.

I'm always scared of being late when there's no one around to confirm my timing's right, so whenever that happens, I end up getting up at the crack of dawn, arriving so early that the doors won't be opened and I'll be awkwardly camping in front of the building on my third coffee when the editors arrive, and they'll throw a dime into my empty cups, and then we'll meet again when I'll get introduced as the intern, and we won't make eye contact, ever.

These are the points I can think of off the top of my head, but I'm sure that we'll discover some more while we're at it. Still, I can't help being really excited about this drastic turn of events - let me count the ways of that excitement another time.

Until then, join me on my level of psychedness!

Love,

Rosy Smith