On the second to last day of my internship (oh yes, sweet sweet release), I realized that the job in and of itself has not completely been a waste of my time. Well, yes, most days I spent spinning around and around in my whirly chair because there was not a gosh darn thing to do, but still I have managed to glean these kernels of knowledge which I now offer to you: 

-I have mastered the Click-Away. It takes approximately 2 seconds from the time you first hear the swishing sound of your boss' polyester pants approaching your cubicle to the time she pokes her head in for you to CLICK away from whatever you've been crapping around with to pass your time (cnn, nytimes...wedding blogs) to an impressive looking word doc. WARNING: do not spaz out and click on the wrong link thus accidentally blowing up the wedding blog page to fill your entire computer screen with blaring images. This is bad. Not that it ever happened to me. Twice. 

-You can make three cups of tea (in increasingly watery quantities) from one bag of Earl Grey. Good to know, because darned if I'm going to cough up 25 MORE cents to the Office Beverage Fund. 

-Always pick an elevator with a window. That way, once you enter, you can pretend to be fascinated by the gray murky surroundings below and thus avoid all awkward conversations with elevator partners. Trust me. It will always be awkward. 

-No one has ever heard of Swarthmore ever ever ever. Don't try and explain it. "A college back East near UPenn" is the furthest detail you should go into in order to salvage your delicate ego. Trust me on this one. 

-Any and all free food (tomatoes, pasta, etc) will disappear from the communal snack table within minutes. Be ruthless and hoard. And the second you hear the strains of some half hearted "Happy Birthday" song, start waddling toward the Office Birthday Party immediately. Who doesn't love cake?

See? Not a COMPLETE vaccuum of nothingness. Very very glad I spent 2 months here.

I'm anticipating the Harry Potter final installment with overwhelming eagerness, but a bit of apprehension as well. "I want it now, I want it now…WAIT! NO, I'M NOT READY!" I've never really waited with such bated breath for the end of a series…the experience is probably heightened due to the fact everyone will be collectively sharply intaking a breath at midnight as they crack open the cover. 

I'm going to get that irrepressible sadness I always do when I finish the book of a long series when it feels like the characters go on living their lives without having me tagging along. I've known these characters for so long, I've concocted their voices, their mannerisms and each physical feature down to the gleam of Hermione's prominent front teeth to the bony freckled nose of Ron (Thankfully, I've resisted all the interpretations of the characters foisted upon me by the movies. Emma Watson, you'll never be Hermy in my mind!). Of course I can reread the books and, as evidenced by the worn spines and loose pages of the other HP books, I do. But it's just not the same suspense and heart thumping that I usually get as my eyes race from line to line on the first read.

Yet, it's even more than just saying goodbye to Harry, Hermione, Ron and Voldy or losing that tingling excitement. I think I figured out why the end to this series is hitting me so much harder than the end to Lord of the Rings or His Dark Materials when I recently read a column of Stephen King's that pointed out that for many of us, we grew up with Harry. The first edition came out in 1997, when I was in second grade. Granted, the fervor didn't catch on for me until the third edition in fifth grade, but I do feel like as I say goodbye to Harry, I'm also as King puts it, "closing the book on their own childhoods — magic summers spent in the porch swing, or reading under the covers at camp with flashlights in hand." I don't know if I'm ready! It's the same bittersweet moment when I realized as a seventh grader (did I hold on to it longer than normal?) that I could no longer play pretend, that my mind no longer accommodated whatever I willed it to. I had to land with a thud on Planet Earth and boy, there are still times that I wish that the refrigerator box in the backyard would turn back into a mouldering castle or a gleaming race car again. It seems like now that I'm just barely holding onto my teens that I'm constantly shutting door after door to my childhood and preparing for "real life."

Usually, I spend the entire night after getting that fresh copy at midnight ripping through page after page to see what happens. However, I think this time around, I'm going to savor each word. I don't want to say goodbye to Harry quite yet. :)