As a quite elucidative example of how my brain works, I will share a snippet from a much-loved book from my childhood that has been repeating in my brain since last I posted.
"Does one always feel a bit lost, the night after a battle?" Harry asked.
"Yes, even when you win," replied Jack.
Now, that might not be 100% exact, but pretty damn close.
I feel a bit in limbo, as Harry did...did we win? Torn between caution, hope, fatigue and giddiness, I await the results of the sequencing of my construct. Is it well and truly over? May I move to the next step? This last week I've revisited the disappointments of the past (in going through dusty notebooks to remind myself of how I'd screened ES cells before) and attacked the frustrations of the present (anal-retentive I may be, but I will order the tissue culture room as I see fit unrepentantly). It's been a welcome break from the roller-coaster ride repetitiveness of the last months, but I'm eager to move on.
As a nice (book)end to my week, I received the latest tome in my guilty-pleasure-reading series from Amazon on Thursday. Though it pained me to not finish it Thursday night (I was ridiculously sleepy, despite the pleasure of the book), I was quite disciplined and drew out its completion until this morning. Have I matured from my childlike gluttonous reading-style or am I simply getting old?
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