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I have finally started my internship. (Or, as my mother calls it, my “volunteer job.”) I’m doing work with the part of my school that handles sexual assault prevention, which basically is the same thing as I do during the school year* but now I have to wear a plastic name placard and follow a dress code. (For those interested, we are not allowed to wear skorts. I weep.)

Skortless though I am, my indentured servitude is going well so far. I felt super incompetent for the first big group meeting (everyone else had project statuses to report on, while I had vague feelings about social justice and also possibly needed a nap), but then I realized that I started work three weeks later than everyone else and those feelings went more-or-less away. I can haz emotional context!

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