be glad you aren't an "intern"

Monday: Dead possum found in front of office. Intern told to find shovel and remove of roadkill. Intern eagerly looks for shovel. No luck, thankfully. Or the rotting carcass would still be in our dumpster. City is called. Road kill interaction averted. For now.

Wednesday: Intern picks up boss from airport, drives him to office. Both arrive to loading dock to find dead mouse outside the door. (Seriously, is there something in the air?) I open the door, boss stops it and says, "Don't squish the mouse! Get a shovel." Intern reports the shovel is MIA. I grab background paper (heavy duty stuff) - well over three feet of it - hand it to the intern and say, "Here - just throw it in the dumpster." Boss yells, "No! You can't ask the intern to manhandle dead meat." (Or something to that effect). Other boss overhears, pushes the men out of the way and womanhandles the dead meat.

Thursday: Intern sent to pick up more background paper (one too many roadkills and we're out). Given boss' car for the errand. Lays down the back seat, sets large tube of heavy paper from trunk to front seat. Closes the trunk. Shatters windshield. Passenger's side window won't roll down. Intern stranded 45:00 away from office. Panics.

Meanwhile, we've heard about our editor's favorite joke at the old place, asking the intern to go downstairs and find the bars and tone. There was no downstairs.