July 10, 2003

8:37 p.m. and I'm back at work again after taking a couple of hours to run and eat dinner. My cells are thawing on ice, waiting for me to infuse them with the custom DNA I made yesterday.

I have a tiny scab on the inside of my forearm from where I accidentally stuck myself with a needle earlier today, a needle which had just come out of a mouse and which contained a serotonin 2C antagonist drug. The mouse had started squirming and trying to bite me as I injected it, and I reflexively jerked back the hand holding the needle towards my body and right into my other arm. Brilliant. 8 years ago, when I started working in labs, this would have freaked me out, but today I just muttered "motherfucker" and put the mouse back in his cage. The mouse is probably cleaner than me anyway, and the amount of drug on the tip of the needle was probably in the nanoliter range anyway. Not a big deal.

My sweatshirt stinks of mouse--mouse urine, actually. I can also see that there is a fresh bleach stain on it. Must have gotten it while cleaning up today. I also have a little bit of blood on my jeans, but you can't really see it unless you look up close. And any normal person who did happen to notice would probably figure it was an errant drop of Merlot from the rim of my glass, anyway. I have to schedule some time to do laundry tomorrow, not so much because all my clothes are covered in mouse bodily fluids, but more because I am out of comfortable underwear and running socks.

By my left elbow are $400 worth of receipts for lab supplies I paid for out of my own pocket in the last two days. I tried to submit them to the secretary today so I could get reimbursed, but I never managed to catch her during the times I was between experiments. I pin them to the bulletin board next to my desk so as not to lose those precious little pieces of paper.

My iPod must sense that I am whining, because it just started playing "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now." Shut up.

Only another 90 minutes or so, and then I can go home.