Friends of Quinn

The words internship and hyperventilating shouldn’t be used in the same sentence, but when you struggle with a learning difference sometimes doing the simplest task can become an anxiety roll coaster.

Over the course of my first internship my sister not only became my therapist, but my private lamaze teacher. One day I called her, holding back the tears, “They wanted me to pick up cupcakes, but didn't tell me how many or what kind! What if I get peanut butter, but someone is allergic and then dies and then I go to jail?” I think that was my creative/neurotic mind talking, not the documented learning difference! She told me, “Tori take a deep breath, your talking about edible products!"

Another essential task was to go get dish washing soap. I thought this task seemed simple enough. I'd go to Duane Reade, pick up soap, get the receipt and power walk back to the office like it was a life or death situation. Returning with the dishwashing soap, I felt like a war hero returning with the enemies head.  My power high was soon destroyed by my boss who said, “Tori I said to go get the refill hand soap bottle, not dishwashing soap. We don't even have a dishwasher in the office.” “Stupid, stupid, stupid” I thought. I looked at my boss gave him an incessant smile, nodded and left for a second try.

On the way to Duane Reade I kept repeating in my head refill hand soap bottle, over and over again. Then it hit me... “What the hell is a refill hand soap bottle?” looking back on that time I don't understand my confusion. How could I not know what a refill soap bottle meant? It says it in the title! This reminded me when I was younger and couldn’t comprehend that every color was not called orange. This was a different situation! I wasn't in kindergarten anymore. I was in the real world now. I was dealing with extreme pressure that was brought on by a very important, two day a week, unpaid internship!

When I got to Duane Reade I immediately took on my own intern, the casher. Although Richie the intern, brought me to the right aisle I still didn't know what the refill bottle looked like. I picked the prettiest looking bottle and most expansive. When I was checking out, I kept asking Richie “Are you sure this is a refill soap bottle that my boss wanted?” Like a true intern Richie gave me a large smile and nodded.

On my way back to the office I was so oblivious to the outside world that I ran right into a pole. Although feeling a bit dizzy I handed my boss my purchase with a fearless firm grip. He looked at the receipt and said “you didn’t have to buy a twenty-five dollar soap.” Then he said, “now we need you to transcribe a New Orleans Police Force, reality show.” Transcribe…no,no, dyslexic don’t transcribe, we have transcribers. They are called our teacher, tutors and parents.

I learned that I should of told my boss in the beginning that I was dyslexic because it would of saved money on my phone bill and the bump on my head that is still apparent three years later.