December 15, 2014
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toil
There's a human in your heart of hearts;
hiding through colors made you fall apart.
In the middle you're a work of art,
but this is real life
real life- Oh Wonder, Dazzle
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"What do you want for Christmas?"
-- "OMG COLGATE"
"What? No, that's lame. What do you actually want for Christmas?"dammit i love colgate
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“Today is a fan-fuckin’-tastic day.”
This has been my daily mantra for maybe the last two or three weeks, but really, who’s counting? You could tell me it’s been two weeks, you could tell me it’s been months, and I would just shrug and nod with an apathetic, “Yeah, sounds about right.” The days are starting to blur together – I spent much of today muttering, “It’s December 15th?! When did it become December 15th?!”
When I was in college, my friend, Morrell, would sigh at the start of every school day, “Same shit, different day.” I thought it was just the most abysmal attitude to have at the top of the morning. What kind of mentality is that?! That’s no sort of pep talk! I wanted to yowl, “SIEZE THE DAY, BETCH! SIEZE IT!!!!!!”
Today, I kind of get it.
I sat in my desk chair, sipping on a cup of tea. The sunlight was barely peeking through the blinds. My co-worker, Cody, studied for his upcoming final exams at the desk next to me.
With neither small-talk nor segue, I sighed, “Cody, I think I’m starting to burn out.”
He maintained his gaze on his laptop monitor, and he sighed back, “You and me both, Christa.”
If there were ever a moment that I could describe a person as having “brooding shoulders,” Cody epitomized it. I couldn’t help but take a mental snapshot of our mutual stress, our mutual flickering filaments. We were light bulbs hanging from a thin wire.
Not to revel in his pain, but I have to admit, the solidarity helped.
Today is an incredible day in its own right – today was my first 8-hour workday since… god, I can’t even remember. I normally work an 8-hour workday – scheduled to show up at 8 a.m. and leave at 5 p.m. I was good on that for a long time, give or take an hour. I never minded staying an extra hour or so to get my work done. These past few weeks (or months? Whatever, who’s counting) have been a different story, and I’ve been putting in an average 11 or 12 hours a day.
To put it succinctly – as lab manager, I used to be really excited when I got assigned to my first project. I’m now on four (five?), and it can seriously kiss my ass like no one’s business. I’m on two pre-clinical drug studies, a pain study, and a fluorescent probe study. Probably some other buttface project that I can’t remember right now. Whatever.
Although to be honest, if I were to spell it out for you, it would actually sound kind of exciting. I’m collaborating with a Nobel laureate, and I get to help produce drugs that have serious potential to help a lot of arthritis patients in the future. My work is a necessary step in the pipeline to get these drugs into hospitals and, within as soon as five years, help real patients fighting rheumatoid arthritis. Honestly, some of the results we’ve been yielding have been incredible and exciting, and I feel very truly like we’re making considerable strides in the clinical understanding and treatment of rheumatoid arthritis.
That being said, my projects can still kiss my ass like no one’s business.
I’m used to being assigned to one major project, maybe two, but being on this many has been incredibly draining, both mentally and physically. Two of my projects are hitting their crux at the same time, and are both demanding my full dedication – but good god, there’s only so much Christa to go around!
I usually leave work way after any reasonable dinner time, frantically get something to eat, and then pass out from exhaustion. Lately, I’ve slept more days in my work clothes than I have in my pajamas. I’ll have some fantastic ambition to not even do much, just to lie in bed and watch a few episodes of South Park, maybe blog over a beer. Even then, exhaustion will take over and I’ll instead pass out in bed, only to wake up just in time for work, to start the game all over again.
Today, however, it is 6:48 p.m. as of the writing of this sentence, and I am not at work. It’s a fucking miracle.
I’ve been sick, I’ve been overworked, I’ve gotten rejected, I’m behind on everything, but I don’t even give a shit. It’s 6:48 p.m. and I’m not at work.
I left my lab, breathed in the cool San Diego air, and nodded, “It’s a fan-fuckin’-tastic day.” And I meant the shit out of it.
I’ll take it.
Today, my friends….
today was a win!