You know when you go into a store that you know is way too expensive for your budget, but you still look around and browse thoughtfully as if you could actually afford anything in there, just to save face as the sales clerk eyes you? That’s what having a summer internship is like — going in somewhere you don’t belong while trying desperately to fool people into thinking you actually know what you’re doing.

This summer I had an internship just like every other junior or senior college student in America. Everyone gushed about what a great opportunity this would be, and they were right — but they left out a few unpleasant details that come with being ... the intern.

The workplace is a lot like high school. You have to wear long skirts (uniform probz), pretend to care about current events and drive in morning traffic. I felt a lot of déjà vu from when I was in high school. I’m kind of like that unassuming girl from a teen movie who everyone suddenly realizes is beautiful once Freddie Prinze Jr. takes her glasses off. Except for no one ever reveals my beauty, so I’m still just the unassuming girl with glasses who listens to the popular girls (female co-workers) gossip about their weekend and doesn’t get asked to prom (important meetings).

Like in most jobs, a lot of my superiors weren’t that much older than me. You’d think a few years wouldn’t make that much of a difference, but every time I asked for assistance I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was asking them to help me brush my Barbie’s hair.

I had my own office and desk which was oddly satisfying. I felt like the Godfather anytime I swiveled around in my chair, and I had to restrain myself from using the phrase: “Step into my office.” The desk was huge and had drawers big enough to fit my Selena Gomez magazine I was in the middle of reading looking at pictures, as well as an emergency bag of Swedish fish and hidden coffee creamer (to mask the fact that I wasn’t a real adult who took their coffee black.) The only downside is that I had to use a “desktop computer.” What’s that, you ask? I’m still not quite sure. It doesn’t have to be charged, and doesn’t use Wi-Fi. Instead, it gets the internet from some suspicious cables plugged into the wall, and you can’t use your finger to navigate the screen. I guess it’s what Laura Ingalls Wilder used.

Interns aren’t paid, and are only temporary, meaning that no one can give you a job that will keep you busy every second of the day. Boredom is just part of the territory. However, even when I didn’t have any current assignments, whenever I would hear footsteps inch closer to my cubicle, I hastily threw my phone down, picked up a notepad and pen, and gave my best “I wasn’t just playing Cooking Fever on my phone” face.

Being an intern also places you in this constant limbo between “Should I be inquisitive and offer ideas?” or “Do I just need to be seen and not heard?” So, it was really hard to know whether or not to give my input and not just about the job. Like when I heard a co-worker asking what the new, catchy JT song is and if he’s still married. I wanted to scream, “It’s called Can’t Stop the Feeling and it’s on it’s way to being the song of the summer! Also, yes, he’s still married to Jessica Biel fondly known from "7^th Heaven" and they have a son named Silas!!” But, I usually opted to keep my mouth shut, which, in retrospect, was probably a good thing. Wouldn’t want potential employers realizing I have more opinions on celebrity culture than anything to do with my major.

Interning also comes with the sharp realization that real life is from 8-5. No more waking up at noon for your 2 o’clock class, and no more staying out until midnight. You wake up early, go to bed early, and have virtually no free time for yourself. No wonder none of my co-workers had their nails done.

All my complaining aside, interning was one of the best experiences I could have had during this stage of my life. I figured out how to survive in an office environment (bring a sweater, it’s freezing in there), learned a lot about my career path and major, made some decisions for my future, and, most of all, came to the conclusion that I have got to marry rich.