So what do you do at your summer internship?

                My division works on projects that implement technology to forward business goals of the company.  Specifically, my main project for the summer is managing the development of an interactive learning website for their training department.  That means, I neither design or program the actual site, nor do I invoice the people we hire to do so.  My role falls somewhere in setting up meetings where we talk about all the neat stuff we want the site to do, then making sure everyone remembers what we talked about in those meetings. 
                 Let's just say if there was a contest at my school for Cushiest Summer Internship, I'd probably win.  Likewise, if there was a contest for Summer Internship with Least Relevance to Your Degree and and Lowest Contribution to Public Health, I would also win.

What company is this?                                                                       

                 Funny you ask.  I am working for the large pharmaceutical client for whom I did projects at my last company (see My First Job).  When I first toyed with the idea of working there, my ex-bf had said it might not be a good idea because some companies wouldn't want to harm their relationship with a contracting company by hiring workers from them.  But considering this pharma co. just closed a $90 billion aggressive takeover--erm, merger--last year, I don't think preserving polite company relations was first on their priorities list.  Anyway, the fact that I am now working here is a source of much amusement and irony.

Why do you say that?

                A couple reasons.  First, I probably had more client contact as a vendor at my last job than I do here.  The clients don't remember who I am, of course.  Back then, I might have emailed them a project each month and talked to them on the phone dozens of times, but it wasn't like they were actually going to take note of my name.  So now as I walk around the building(s) aimlessly getting lost every day, I come across familiar-sounding name plates on office doors all the time.  More than a couple times, I've been re-introduced to people I've met before, who remain totally oblivious to my identity.  It's very amusing.  I'll be thinking, "I remember when you made that speech at the Phoenix conference and my manager and I were passing notes about how ditzy you sounded," and she'll be shaking my hand thinking, "How cute, a new intern."

                I am also learning what it feels like to be on the other side--there is a truly superior attitude towards vendors that is perpetuated by the groveling, kowtowing worship and submissiveness that they bestow on us continually.  It's a bit disturbing, just as a summer intern, to be getting flowery Thank You emails every day, promises to deliver the best, and general  accolades to us, their Client on Highest.  Yep, exactly the kiss-ass act I used to have to do.  I was in a meeting with my internal clients (another thing I have to get used to--doing billable work for clients who are other people in my own company) when it was interrupted by a phone call.  The woman looked at her Call ID and said, "I bet it's so-and-so--he's an outside vendor who calls me ALL the time!  I just ignore his calls, I NEVER return them!  Tee hee!"  They looked at me as if letting me in on some hilariously naughty secret, not knowing I've been in that guy's shoes hundreds of times before.
                In fact, there's a vendor who literally called me every few hours, asking for the specs I said I would send as soon as they were ready (I was waiting for some information from my manager).  I'd told the guy I'd be out all day, and the messages I got at the end of the day (including evenings) were all him, asking if they were ready.  It made me not want to call him back even more.  My manager at my old company made me follow up like that too, against my wishes of course.  Now I wonder--was I that annoying?
                I also realize I was impressing no one when I used to email their projects at late after-work hours, because apparently vendors do that all the time, call in while they're on vacation, etc.  I wonder if it's just Vendor SOP--finish the work early, bum around all day, and send it in late at night.  It might seem like they're burning midnight oil at the office, but they're really at a bar clicking "Send all queued mail" from their wireless PDAs.  Not speaking from my own experience, of course.  (Would they give me a PDA at my last company?  Ha.)
                To my chagrin, I've also caught myself using all the dreaded phrases I used to hate.  When they ask, "What's your timeframe?  When do you need this by?"  the answer really is, "Now.  Right away.  As soon as possible."  
                I remember how I saved those old pink visitors passes I used to get from my first meetings here because I'd been so excited when I got to come--my first exposure to the big corporate NY world.  Now, I'm in meetings, staring at the vendors' Visitor nametags that say "VISITING:  WANG, GRACE."  It's all a little surreal.

OK, enough with the nostalgia.  Why do you say it's so cushy?

                My commute is a 15-minute walk away from a 75% company-paid apartment in a high rise where everyone drives a Benz, wears Chanel and owns a daily manicured Maltese.  In fact, when I ride up and down the elevators or walk through the lobby in my shorts and sneakers, people look at me like I'm lost.  I have averaged about a 35-hour work week (haven't you noticed this page has been updated a lot lately?) because "summer hours" (April to October) mean that Fridays end at 2PM.  There's the company store, company gym, cafeteria that's like a restaurant but amazingly cheap, corporate discounts to city arts and culture events, and plenty of company luncheons/happy hours/outings--it's a happy place to be.

Tell us what we really want to know--how much do you make?

                Let's just say, enough so that I did a fair amount of jumping up and down when I received the offer, and whenever I thought about it every once in awhile in the weeks that followed.  However, 40% is hacked out in taxes, and whatever I manage to save after playing in NYC is going to get sucked up into the bottomless pit of tuition.  So don't get excited--I'm still a poor, poor bastahd.