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...mostly because I honestly have been exhausted. I've alluded to having a finite level of energy to communicate before and I've been using it up almost entirely on meatspace stuff lately. This is my first weekend of down time in two weeks and I have been savoring it.

Cut for rambling about what I've actually been up to )

Yeaaaaah. I have no idea when I'm going to have the energy to start blogging again regularly, unfortunately. I have a bunch of topics I want to say things about, but I just have so little energy to say anything with that I've mostly been lurking in the background and hiding from just about everything.
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I think I am hacking up a lung, here. Seriously, cough, whatever you are, please go away soon. I'm running out of DayQuil and I keep sleeping past my alarm clock and I am getting no work done.

On top of the rest of it, I have nothing to do now at work but put out my final paper for the semester and write that grant proposal. Which at least requires no hand-eye coordination, so when I collapse into coughing fits that leave me doubled over and miserable I haven't actually destroyed anything. Still, they are not nearly as fun as collecting data.

Also, if I never see another mug of chamomile tea with honey in it, it will be too soon. At least I'm finally making a dent in that supply of chamomile my mother gave me way back in 2008.
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 So apparently fruit flies, given a few days to their own devices, will rub metallic Sharpie off their legs and eat it. I could see the colors in their little bellies. Sigh. Now I understand much more fully why all experiments include a trial phase to iron out little problems like that...

In other words, I want brownies and yet I am too lazy to haul myself down to Goodwill and pick through their pans for a cheap Pyrex pan to make them in. Perhaps I can make brownies in the cake pan...
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I finally achieved emerged flies this afternoon! After two weeks of waiting, it feels awesome to sort of have something to do at work other than obsessively check my stocks to see whether they need mushrooms or water. On Thursday, I operate! (My work makes for the best elevator conversations. I managed to distill the summer's project into one sentence, guaranteed to freak out irritatingly inquisitive people: "Oh, well, I watch flies having sex!" Right now, it's closer to "I operate on flies to see what effect that has on their ability to have sex!" and that's not quite as sharp. I think I still beat my friend's analysis of the effect of the end of the Confederate War on Southern conceptions of masculinity, but it's a narrow thing.)

The dog continues to be constantly itchy and secreting nasty gunk from his eyes. I think he's finally developed an allergy to duck. Next time I go out and buy food, I'm getting him a new protein. 
I have been feeling off, lately. I hope it's not connected to my gnawing worries that seventeen hours for a semester including research is unsustainable for me. At least this fall, I haven't a roommate to lose. (That would be the other consideration; I may simply just not be getting enough social contact. Pity they don't sell vitamins for that.) Well, I only need to survive this one, and then I can take thirteen and twelve-hour semesters for all the rest of college, and have a proper class-less summer besides. Treat myself kindly and all that. 
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Oh my god, I feel like I got punched in the uterus. Ow. Ow ow ow.

In other news, today's winner for Insanely Persistent Fly goes to Male Fly Number Eight, who attempted copulation 44 times before finally succeeding. This was essentially all of his mating strategy. For thirty-six minutes.

Also, I get to plantsit for Dr. D in exchange for money! HOORAY. And there was poetry written today instead of focusing in Philosophy. DOUBLE YAY. I'm so used to having a permanent block that getting something creative that I actually like written makes me very, very happy. 

In other news, I'm going home this weekend. If I don't chicken out, I'll finally have a chance to talk with my mother about the horrible panic attack I had in Italy and how her response was full of fail, and also the asexuality thing. I love her, but... I'm so tired of her saying insanely hurtful things without thinking every time I become halfway vulnerable. And dammit, this wasn't the first panic attack/overstimulation issue I've had in public and it probably won't be the last, especially if I cave to my mom's occasional guilt-tripping on behalf of my dad and go to a football game. I may as well be brave now and have the uncomfortable conversations, because if I don't I think I will probably start trying to avoid my parents and never be able to tell them why. And I miss them. 
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I keep meaning to write more often, about all the things which circulate in my head and occasionally poke me and ask to get out. I like writing, and in my classes I don't get to do it so much (damn you, science major), so I miss it. Also, I have things to say, except when I forget. And I have the attention span of a rather confused gnat at the moment. (Gotta do this gotta do that gotta sign that form do that homework get those groceries drop off that form--so much!)

Unfortunately I've also been working (best job ever, incidentally) and taking classes and haven't had so much free time, so... yeah. I got my own project at work, though. Now I have to google Drosophila courtship and watch the results. I've been too scared to do that yet. It seems like the kind of Google that could result in Bad Things.

It's kind of weird to be asexual and to spend an hour watching three pairs of flies attempting to mate. Next week, when we really start and I don't have to collect virgin flies anymore, is going to be interesting.
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Well. I did wake up and say to myself, "Sci, this is going to be a long fucking day." Wasn't expecting it to be this long, though.

Okay, so I did get my Statistics lab off. (At least, I hope so--it's entirely possible that all six other people were wrong when they said we had it off today.) But the actual lecture went on twice as long as usual. And then the Biochemistry test appeared to be some sort of insane vicious exam from hell--I don't know whether I passed or failed, but I'm not optimistic about it. All of that I expected.

What I did not expect, though, was staggering out of my Biochem test, feeling unwontedly nauseous, and then running straight into Dr. P at the bus stop. And having to make conversation. Why do authority figures always pop up and ask you about your day when you're failing tests, anyway? It isn't as if I could say "I totally believe I just failed it! :D" So I sort of waffled a bit at him and tried not to look too mush-brained, then grabbed the first bus that comes along.

Then, of course, after hauling myself all the way up to the sixth floor on the Elevator Of Crippling Slowness, I trot up to Dr. C's office for my Very Important Meeting about what the hell I'm doing this semester. No response. Okay, I tell myself, I am Bold Sciatrix. I can handle this. So I attempt to twist the handle and invite myself in to see him for my Very Important Meeting. Of course, the door is locked. Cue moment of total despair, because I have no energy left. Then I spot W, one of the lab's graduate students, coming down the corridor. Excellent, I think, W will totally tell me where Dr. C is so I can have my Very Important Meeting! Except W tells me she thinks that Dr. C hasn't come in at all today, and do I need to see him right now? Cue headdesking as I attempt to check my email to see whether Dr. C has sent me an email offering to reschedule (he hadn't), and then G says he thought he saw Dr. C earlier today. At least I got one of my awesome "you know, your work is pretty attractive to most profs and don't sell yourself short" talks from G. I've missed those.

So... yeah. I gave up after a bit, hauled myself home, trying not to scream out of frustration, and washed my dishes out of spite. (I believe in getting usefulness out of my stress-rage response.) New plan is to finish my jasmine tea, go down and bitch at L for a little while, and then come back and finish rereading Night Watch until I feel better. Hope it works.
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Today I am being a person entirely made out of flailing. And dampness.

It is raining outside and my feet are wet and people are wrong on the Internet and I spilled water all over my desk and and and...! That last one wouldn't be a problem except that my desk contains my pitcher and kettle and teapot and also, at last count, eight gajillion mugs. And also my printer. I cannot wait for the day when I get my own apartment and my electronics and tea materials do not need to share living space.

So. Totally skipping my lab meeting, because Dr. C doesn't think I can come anyway (he is wrong about my willingness to skip Physics, but he does not need to know that) and it's wet and miserable out anyhow. I'm meeting him on Tuesday anyway, where we can discuss my critical lack of ability to do anything in his lab since he is abandoning me for Indiana. (God, I wish I was making that up.) I need to find another faculty research mentor, preferably one who is staying right here. To the Genetics site!

And I had a brilliant plan to make friends with Dr. M because faculty recs are always good, even if they aren't actually in your department or science at all, but alas it involved actually going to office hours and like the crazy person he is he does not have them. So that's another cunning plan foiled. I should have known. At least I actually got to talk to my dad and give him my bestest compliment in the world, which seemed to make him very happy. I need to sit down and have a Conversation About Life with him, because although my dad is a crazy charismatic arrogant person who makes people love him for no reason he is the best person ever to have Conversations About Life with. Well, as long as you don't let him use his Game of Life metaphor, anyway.


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