Since a Youtube video of me as the "happiest Olympic worker" went viral with more than a million hits this week, life has been surreal. I have been trying to fit catching up on sleep around interviews with journalists from across the world and continuing my long shifts as a member of the "last mile" team at the Olympic Park. My job involves giving spectators information from a podium using a megaphone, keeping them enthused and upbeat.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me to work at the Games. I'm a natural people pleaser, and enjoy making people laugh. When I saw that chair it was like it had a shining light around it, and I thought: this is the perfect opportunity. This is my chair. It was the first time I had a platform to speak to people, and once I was sat up there with the megaphone I just said what came to mind. I could tell the crowds were excited about the Games, but they weren't showing it, and so I use humour to try to bring that enthusiasm out of them.

The experience of working at the Games is fantastic: the atmosphere is positive; the crowds are happy – and so are the workers. Some people think I was being sarcastic in the video, but I meant every word. We were instructed to act cheerful and excited, but that's not my style, so I said what I was supposed to, and just delivered it in my own way. I've always had a dry sense of humour, and friends and family have told me I'm funny. I was spurred on by the people gathering around my chair and noticed a couple of people filming me and taking pictures. When the video started to go viral I couldn't believe it, but was just happy that people get my sense of humour, that I have fulfilled my role as a people pleaser for the Olympics.

I think there's something quite British about my humour that makes it chime with people: we are good at understating things, at not showing our real emotions. I'm being told I should be a stand-up comedian, but that's not for me – I would be booed off the stage. I'm a history graduate and start a teacher training course in September to teach secondary history. Not everyone loves history, so I might have to use a few jokes to keep my students interested.

For the moment, I'm carrying on keeping spectators entertained from my chair: I don't have a set routine, but I do have a few popular one-liners. As long as I'm giving them information as well, I'm doing my job.

People are starting to recognise me when I sit on my chair – they shout out: "Oh my God, that's the girl from Youtube!" I don't feel like a celebrity, I'm just a normal girl working at the Olympics who made a few jokes – because that's what the people want, and that's what I'll keep giving.