The start of intern season has the same sort of feeling as frosh week for someone who's been working on campus all summer long. You almost resent their swarm for invading your quiet peace, but you also feel a nostalgic empathy for every over-saturated blinding emotion that they're going through. You remember being that young and that starry-eyed, and it wasn't nearly as long ago as you'd like to convince yourself.

Interns at Google wear green badges, as opposed to the white badges of the rest of us, and the green badges huddle together -- strangers this morning, bff's now -- and nervously watch us for clues of what they should be doing. How do I get on the shuttle? Do I need to scan my badge? Where do I sit? They look to us as the grownups. We're all kids here, not just them, but they haven't figured that out yet.

My team is getting two interns this summer. Our engineer intern arrived a few days ago, and thus far has sat pretty quietly and when we throw things at him (which is how we show affection) he looks up at us with a mixture of horror and mild amusement. He hasn't thrown things back yet. He will. They always do.

Our PM intern'll be here shortly. The team will probably see less of him, as he'll be off in meetings and such, but that might actually mean that I'll see more of him, as I'll probably be in the same meetings. I hope he makes good coffee. (I know what interns are for.)

In six weeks they'll be strolling through campus like they own it, and in six weeks more they'll be gone, and the place will feel empty. But for now it is noisy and crowded and stuffed with green badges trying to figure out where they're supposed to put their lunch trays.