More on the comedy of errors also known as my life
First, a general update. Life is going well here in DC... I still love my job, although I may be at the lab approximately 24 hours a day next week, as I was just informed yesterday that it would be good for me to genotype 300 rhesus macaques at 6 loci each by the end of July. And for those of you who can multiply, that means 1800 samples. I can only do 96 samples at a time, and I think I can do two trays of 96 per day max. And that's saying nothing about analysis, nor is that giving myself the inevitable error room (for the times when I get lost in my own world and forget to add something critical to the PCR mix, or something else typically Mollie-like). Granted, my principal investigator isn't saying the genotyping has to be done by the end of July, but let's face it, I'm a workaholic. And when there's work to be done... how can I quit? Damn you, MIT, for instilling this insanity in me. (Not that I haven't always been like this. I mean, hello, senior year of high school? But I'm blaming MIT for exacerbating it.)
Second... I've had two incidents in the past 24 hours which I think typify me with regard to the opposite sex. And that's sad.
Incident 1. I walk down the street, talking on my cell phone to Laura and eating a strawberry ice cream cone. It is hot outside, so the ice cream cone is dripping copiously down my hands. Just as I decide to forgo all propriety and begin to happily lick the offending ice cream from the back of my hand, three good-looking guys walk past me. One says, "Hey, how you doin'?" I am so surprised that I jerk my head up. There is strawberry ice cream on my nose.
Incident 2. Having recovered from the ice cream incident, I join Rose in the TV room downstairs to watch whatever's on TV (if Rose is in charge of the remote, the Food Channel). A boy comes in and begins talking to us. My ego already being damaged from the ice cream, I smile and bat my eyes and am generally alluring and convivial. The boy looks at me and asks, "Are you in college?"
Alas.
Second... I've had two incidents in the past 24 hours which I think typify me with regard to the opposite sex. And that's sad.
Incident 1. I walk down the street, talking on my cell phone to Laura and eating a strawberry ice cream cone. It is hot outside, so the ice cream cone is dripping copiously down my hands. Just as I decide to forgo all propriety and begin to happily lick the offending ice cream from the back of my hand, three good-looking guys walk past me. One says, "Hey, how you doin'?" I am so surprised that I jerk my head up. There is strawberry ice cream on my nose.
Incident 2. Having recovered from the ice cream incident, I join Rose in the TV room downstairs to watch whatever's on TV (if Rose is in charge of the remote, the Food Channel). A boy comes in and begins talking to us. My ego already being damaged from the ice cream, I smile and bat my eyes and am generally alluring and convivial. The boy looks at me and asks, "Are you in college?"
Alas.