OK, I have a serious lack of interesting things to post about here. Because on a scale of 1 to 10, my stress level has reached about a 16.4. It’s hard to post something entertaining or thoughtful or dirty when I’m one dropped ependorf tube away from stabbing someone in the eye with a pipet.
Julie says I can vent about science here. Yeah, I could, I guess. Except that it would be post after post of
GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! GET ME OUT OF HERE! GET ME OUT OF HERE! I WANT TO GRADUATE!!! WHY WON’T MY LAST FEW STINKING EXPERIMENTS WORK??? FUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!!! FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK!!!!!
Doesn’t help that everyone in the lab is in “just about to move, packing my stuff, full of stress, don’t talk to me” mode. It is not the greatest work environment.
Today I thought I’d try to lift my spirits and make me somewhat popular in the lab, I picked up a dozen donuts. Hooray! Everyone loved the donuts and my spirits were successfully lifted!
Hooray! My PCR finally worked!
Boooo! My PCR showed that my strains are not what I want them to be!
It’s a rollercoaster of emotions in the lab, and I don’t have the energy to post it all here. So please just assume that everything is seriously sucking from now on, unless I post otherwise.
Thank you.
PS: if you are feeling at all down about your relationship (and let me assure everyone that I’m DEFINATELY not, I’m just making a point), please go watch “my fair brady: we’re getting married!” on VH1. Your relationship will look amazingly functional and drama-less in comparison.
grace on 
PandoraWilde on 
Ken on 
Seth on 
grace (46 comments)
Knit Witch (41 comments)
Julie (26 comments)
Janice in GA (26 comments)
(Plus, we’ll all be able to celebrate that we are NOT members of the Brady Bunch. Nothing beats that revelation!)
My Fair Brady is like gawking at a car accident. You don’t want to. God knows, you’re afraid of what grotesque horror you are going to see. But you just can’t help yourself.
Sending good juju for your strains.
Oh, and this meltdown you are having - I always thought that was a prerequisite for getting an advanced degree? Like, you have to kiss advisor ass, you have to write papers, you have to publish or perish… and you have to go stark-raving-mad and get a murderous gleem in your eyes before your thesis committee accepts you into the fold as “she’s one of us now.” No?
OK, sending good juju your way, too. Maybe this afternoon is a good day to go wedding cake sampling - you know, just to be sure.
LOFL - I can’t seem to NOT watch that show. And that’s hilarious that you posted that becuase about two minutes ago I was just telling somebody at work about it. And I believe my exact words were “They make disfunctional look like bliss”. They are doomed.
Chin up!
I caught the original Surreal Life with those two. That was weird enough for me, thanks. Watching Mini-Me trying to cop a feel what what’s-her-name is lying naked on a table coverd in sushi, words simply cannot describe.
Sorry about all the lab stuff. Wouldn’t have been easier just to sleep with someone to get your advanced degree?
Waaaaah I don’t have VH1!
Fuck fuck fuckity fuck? Mine always goes… fuck fuckity fuck fuck. Must be the genes.
No, you both have it wrong. You must do it the Eric Cartman way;
fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck
According to “Four Weddings and a Funeral,” the definitive source for how to say “fuck” and “bugger,” Bunsen has it right.
And I am ashamed to say that My Fair Brady is on my Season Pass on TiVo. Christopher Knight makes Rick look extrememy well-adjusted and secure by comparison.