I'm in the windowless basement of Mendenhall Labratory. It is desolate,the hum of the ICPMS and the faint smell of acid... it feels like a cave, but warm, and I am here by choice. I'm lucky that it is warm, because the furnace is constantly failing, and we must look at our own breath. Similarly, the air-conditioning in the summer fails and we must suffer in our long sleeves(lest the acid drop on our bare skin).
As for now, my mind is sterilized by the hum and I'm having difficulty taking notes, let alone writing Christmas cards, or better yet, looking at data...
My mind drifts worse than the instrument, I'm thinking back fourth graders..... I lit a match and put it in a bottle (lowering the air pressure), then I stuck a hard boiled egg on top and WHOMP, The egg was suctioned in with a thud.
2 comments:
Sarah,
I know what you mean about your mind wandering further than the instrument drifts. I hope that beast will start to cooperate. Meanwhile, you can think about the great times you had collecting the samples while you are struggling with your ICP-MS.
That's excellent advice!!!
You are aptly named the Golden Beaker!
-Sarah
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