Today, in celebration of the third-to-last day of my internship at a self-publishing company, I was given six hours worth of scanning. The scanner at my desk is mind-numbingly lethargic. Paint dries faster than it takes the thing to scan a single sheet of 8.5 x 11. I have never felt six hours pass so slowly. This was worse than an average day back in middle school, where I would stare at the clock until my eyes burned.
As I sat there through-out the day, memorizing my desk's fake wood-grain pattern waiting for page after page to scan, I could hear my bosses conspiring to give me more as soon I finished whatever manuscript I was working on. One of them would then come over and repeat the conversation to me, as though I hadn't heard every word they had said. Needless to say, the end can not come too quickly.
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