The snooze button on my alarm gets more action than Marilyn Monroe on days like this. I’m up again at 6 a.m., in my car by 7:30 am, yelling at the guy trying to turn left down a one-way street at 7:48 a.m., and finally in the office by 7:55 just making my clock-in time. From 8 a.m. until 5 p.m., I am one step above an Egyptian slave. At 5 p.m., I leave the office, cook dinner at home for one, and finally fall asleep to the sound of ambulances passing by my window by midnight.

Then the process starts again.

Many of you share my pain. We’re the group of people that, for a reason unknown to any mortal being, decide to take on a summer internship.

Internships are not like other summer jobs. My friends who work at tennis clubs or tanning beds smile at people and get great perks like free court time or a tanning subscription (though I’m not so sure if that’s a perk I want). Me, I gain knowledge and make contacts in exchange for sitting through meetings, creating online content, and running around the office, mostly to make more coffee. I currently hold the record for most cups drank in one day.

However, I can’t complain. My boss is kind and listens to my opinions. The lady I work closely with consults with me on almost every project. They take time to sit and work through problems with me – the guy who thought he knew a lot before he sat down at that dual-screened computer.

Most of my friends accepted intern positions this summer. Some of them are paid but most of them are not. If you accepted an intern position, it may or may not have anything to do with your normal schoolwork. Fortunately, I landed a great gig where I get to put my communication theory skills to work. However, any experience gained during the summer is good experience, even if we come home beat to a pulp each day, only to receive six hours of sleep and start again.

To me, the most exciting thing about my internship is the prospect of learning a new city. I’m in Nashville, Tennessee, and I’ve never driven up so many hills in one day. It’s a far cry from the flatlands of Texas, and everyone here would laugh that we call ourselves “The Hilltop.”

Throughout my four weeks in the city thus far, I’ve already made great friends and explored new coffee shops. I’ve learned the difference between a gay man and a hipster (it’s harder to tell than you think), and have eaten the best biscuits of my life (y’all really need to chow down at Loveless Café).

This summer, think of your slaving away during the day for little or no monetary compensation well worth the frustrations of an intern, should you have made that choice. When you think to yourself, “Why the heck did I not just stay home and work at Starbucks again,” remember the knowledge you’re gaining from those who have worked in the business you want to rule someday. And when you feel like you’re about to pass out from exhaustion keep going! You’ll have a couple of weeks before we hit the books to rest.

Graves is a junior majoring in Communication.