I am bleary-eyed as I compose this after working two twelve hour days and all weekend (insert sympathy here). This would be all well and good if I was rescuing orphans in Haiti or preforming life-saving surgery, but I’m not. I work for a luxury lifestyle magazine that just happens to take up my entire (not so luxurious) life. This issue was more of a doozy than usual because it’s our who’s who under 40 issue and we are currently sans a designer to make the magazine. So what do you do in a down economy when magazines are dropping like flies? Free labor! That’s where Erika and Ali come in. Two brilliant college students who we coerce into designing and copyediting the entire magazine in their spare time. Never mind that when I was in college I spent my hours between classes hot boxing my car and painting murals with my feet.
Students today don’t seem to have a second to kill their brain cells or make toe art. It’s a tragedy! In between writing papers on god knows what, they work three days a week at the magazine, toiling over the rants and raves of socialites. Tonight, Erika, our design intern, and Ali, my editorial intern, were the last two in the office with me. They caught typos, designed pages, and actually kept me from trying to stab myself with a butter knife. I’m so glad this bad boy is to the printer, and I am so so lucky to have wonderful, brilliant, over-worked interns who make sweatshop labor fun.