The End

I need to start this post not by telling you about my day, but thanking my blog readers. The last six months have been crazy, and without the constant support of those online I probably would have given up. When I started the blog, I had no idea that such a strong supportive community existed, and my eternal gratification goes out to those who stayed with me along the way.

The reason I am getting so sentimental about blogging is because this will be the last post of Notes from the Intern, for a while.

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Goodbye Glasgow

I had been packing for a couple of hours when Goatee rang. (How do you move somewhere with two large suitcases, and leave six months later with two large suitcases, two slightly smaller suitcases, a massive shoulder bag and a carry on? Where did all this stuff come from?) Anyway, Goatee rang, skipped the small talk, and immediately asked what my plans were, was I still going to London? I said that I was, but only for a few weeks. I told him I was going to travel, and gave him a brief overview of my itinerary. I think I actually heard a smile (if that’s possible) when I mentioned seeing his son. 

Going it Alone

I was at the café before HarryPotter, and I was actually a little nervous. Silly right? How much have I been through with this guy, and I was nervous? I’d even done myself up. Did my hair, covered that giant bruise with make-up. He’s seen me at my morning worse a hundred times. I don’t really know why I was acting like it was a first date or something. But I had big news, and I wanted it to feel special.

I’ve decidedly made a plan

Woke up this morning when I heard HarryPotter shuffling about the house. He was in the kitchen, one sock on, half closed bathrobe over a t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts, and his hair was all matted on one side. He had a few days stubble across his face, and he was drinking orange juice from the carton. I giggled to myself because he looked so wonderful.

It’s All Come Together, But I’m Still Confused

After the job interview and after posting earlier today, I called HarryPotter to tell him the good news. I asked him to meet me at the café to celebrate, but he suggested that a Pub celebration was a better idea.

No Longer the Intern, Now I’m the Staff

What’s got two thumbs and a job? This guy!

Inter-Office Spies and Job Interviews

Woke up on the floor of the lounge this morning, my legs were completely dead because HarryPotter was curled up across them like a dog. I reached over and shook him. He rolled over, and I stood up. Or I tried. My legs were asleep, I completely collapsed and wacked my cheek on the arm of the sofa. Which made a hell of a racket, partially because I screamed bellbottomed obscenities when I hit the side of the sofa. HarryPotter jumped up in a panicked daze wanting to know what happened. I yelled that I fell and hit my face, and then started crying like a little girl who skinned her knee. I knew that my cheekbone had just shattered, the skin was ripped open and the sofa indent looked like a zombie attack. Fuck that fall hurt.