My journey into the office has most definitely changed since I started my internship with ATC. August allowed me to don pretty dresses and sunglasses to work, and I welcomed the walk from Liverpool Street station – who wants to stand on a cramped, sweaty bus when you can glide through the streets of London’s east end and let the sun cause your body to go into an endorphin frenzy?
And then, September came. The cast had been in Edinburgh performing The Golden Dragon for Fringe Festival fanatics, and it seemed that on their return to London they brought with them less than pleasant weather. In the last few weeks autumn has well and truly asserted itself in the capital, and thick tights and thicker jumpers have been prised from the depths of my wardrobe as I reluctantly resign myself to the aptly acronymed Seasonal Affective Disorder.
But the distinct seasonal differences have made me realise how the work that I am doing for ATC has also changed since I started at the end of July. My fellow intern has moved on, the cast have moved back and I have moved forward. In the past month, I have been tweaking my copywriting skills, attempting to record and edit video footage (heavy emphasis on ‘attempting’), and enjoying the free ‘Side Orders’ that accompany the performances of The Golden Dragon.
However, it was attending the Gala Fundraiser last week that really highlighted how far I’ve come in the last few months. In July, I was a sparkling new graduate, free from the chains of academia and thrust enthusiastically into a world of possibilities. I knew when deliberating over which career path to take – to become a penniless writer, or a penniless actress? – that money would have to take a backseat to passion and I searched avidly for opportunities that could lead to great things. And it was on the absolutely stunning Dalston Roof Park, overlooking the deliciously lit city and casually socialising with playwrights that I have admired wholeheartedly since my school days, that I realised how incredibly lucky I am to be working with such a brilliant company.
Two months ago, I would never have imagined that I would even be sharing breathing space with the likes of Mark Ravenhill and Martin Crimp, and yet last Wednesday, tucking into a delightfully pillow-soft yum bun, surrounded by gorgeous Chinese lanterns and a considerable amount of fairy lights, I did just that.