Practicum NightmareThere have been countless times this week I've questioned my decision in signing up for management practicum. Although it does provide us with experience in management consulting (a potential future career) there is just a shitload of work to do. The Bouverie St computer labs is now officially my second home; we've been there so often the past fortnight, staying till closing time.. it's not even funny. All because of that stupid 20,000 word report that makes up 60% of our final grade. The tradeoff is of course, no exam. It was all going to plan until thursday, where we realised that even though the sections are completed, the report still needs to be edited, organised perfectly according to the meticulous instructions given by Trevor, to the tiniest little detail like font size between a subheading and text. All too trivial in my opinion, but nevertheless it made the report look more professional.
As the self-proclaimed editor (a blessing or mistake - I'm yet to decide) the past 3 days has been hell, spending almost every waking moment glued to the computer screen, editing the report from page 1 to 100. After taking 2 hours to fix up the damn contents page, the excruciating editing began, only leading to the realisation that I have to finish just about 30 pages a day to meet the Sunday evening deadline I set myself. Friday, Saturday & Sunday consisted of my fingers ravaging over my keyboard, and me cursing every sentence that was four lines long. A backache, wristache, fingerache, headache, shoulder cramps, and every ache you can imagine, was present on me by sunday night, where the complete report barring the executive summary (left it till monday to wing it) was finally completed and emailed to my team for previewing. By this stage, the report was somewhere around 26,000 words, and I wasn't hopeful that anyone will actually read it word-for-word. Monday arrives and we rush to the comp labs again, and worked on producing this very blue cover page, writing the exec summary, and creating the file of contents. After which, we signed, sealed and delivered the fucking thing by dumping it in the management department, and swore never to speak of it again. Until we deliver it to Erin sometime next week.
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