Water Woes

As sad as I was to have to move, I figured there was at least ONE perk (well, in addition to paying $975 less per month) -- moving on up. The two previous places I've lived, I lived on the bottom floor. While this has many benefits (moving couches, carrying in groceries, stays cooler in the summer, etc), it has the unfortunate problem of gravity working against you. Any water which leaks from above came pouring right down onto me (see here, here, here, and here if you need refreshers on the floods of 2006, 2007, 2009, and 2010). But now, in my new place, I am on the top floor (of a two story building). Finally! Gravity is in MY favor! It was finally Karmic Plumbing time, in which my water dripped on those below, instead of vice versa!

Haha. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

Three weeks ago, there was a leak in the pipe below my sink, which flooded the kitchen.

Two weeks ago, our garbage disposal broke, so water leaked out the bottom of the garbage disposal.

Last week, our dishwasher stopped draining after the final rinse cycle.

This week, our dishwasher won't even run (probably because of the three inches of water in the bottom that we can't drain).

You can run. You can hide. You can try to defy gravity. But if you've been tagged for life with the Ultimate Plumbing Curse, you just can't escape them.

Perhaps this is all just one big sign that I'm supposed to stop cooking and exist on takeout and paper plates for the rest of my life.

New Digs

What do you do when you don't have time to maintain the blog you already have?

You start writing for a second one, naturally!

I was so flattered when Brian over at LabSpaces invited me to blog for his new collection of science blogs that I just couldn't say no. But I also didn't want to give up my little home over here for the past five years, so I'll be writing both here and there.

So don't worry, no need to delete me from your RSS reader quite yet... just feel free to add on my second home, if you are so obliged! And look for things to pick up a bit around here too...

Come join me over at Disgruntled Julie's LaboRANTory!

Joke’s On Me

While sitting here banging my head on the desk, trying to decide whether it would be more therapeutic to laugh or to cry, I just realized something.

My life?  Is a joke.  I’m not anywhere near so bad off that I deserve pity – I have a roof over my head, a (frequently disgruntling) career path that pays me just enough to survive, a husband (albeit in another state), wonderful friends, etc.  On paper, my life is great!

But then these little things happen, and just pile up one on top of another.  And really, who has so many little disastrous things?  It’s just too much!

And that’s when I realized my life must really be a joke, and I am here for the comedic relief of everyone else.  Are there cameras following me everywhere I go, a la The Truman Show?  These things surely must be staged to provide excellent “reality” television for everyone out there to see how I react.  Will she have a breakdown?!  Will she break plates out of frustration?  Oh, she handled that rationally.  Let’s throw something else at her to see what happens!  Are you all watching me on some streaming internet site from work?  Did you just see me wave at you?  (Sorry for the unwashed messy hair and way-too-big pajamas; I’ve been sick.  Though I’m sure you must know that based on the number of times you’ve seen me blow my nose the past few days.)

Several weeks ago, it all started when I found out I was going to have to move out of the wonderful condo I have been renting the past three years.  Back in March, I contacted the owner and asked if she would be amenable to doing a shorter-term lease, since I am hoping to not need a full year to finish my Ph.D. (unrealistic wishful thinking on my behalf).  She said yes, it was fine, and we set a date to sign my new, short term, renewable lease.  I emailed back and forth to confirm all questions I had – that I would not be asked to sign a full year lease at any point; that she would not attempt to find another tenant until I was done; etc.  Over and over she reassured me that the place was mine as long as I needed it, and she would never rope me into a full year lease.

The day before we were supposed to sign the lease, she emails me, informing me that she changed her mind, and I would be signing a 3-month lease followed by a year-long lease.  She didn’t care what she had said previously, this was how it is and I could take it or leave it. 

So, I’m leaving it.  I had one month to do a move that I was not expecting to do, and it has frayed my every last nerve.  There are very, very few places that will allow you to do short term or month-to-month that are not excruciatingly expensive, so I am moving into an apartment with a roommate.  Yes, it’s a major step downward, and now my husband and I are going to have NOWHERE to ourselves since I will be living with someone, but let’s save that letdown for another day, shall we?

So, I found somewhere to live.  I’m not happy about it, I’m not looking forward to it, but I also know that I adapt extremely well, so I am sure it will all work out, even if I feel like I am regressing in life.  I get to have an AMAZING! WONDERFUL! EXCITING! birthday this weekend spent moving one-fourth of my belongings to my new place, and three-fourths of my belongings into storage in Philadelphia.  (I’ll spare you the details about how despite reserving the move-out date weeks ago, and paying my $400 move-out fee, the management company double booked, and now some girl is calling me up screaming at me all the time because she needs to park her truck in the spot I reserved for my move-out.)  I’ve been quite sick the past two days, which have put a huge damper on my packing efforts.  Yesterday, I spent all afternoon sleeping on the couch, and today I was feeling a bit better, but opted to stay home from lab again so as to be able to catch up on some additional sleep and do some more packing.

Since my place is a disaster, I’m trying to do the best to separate what is going to Philly versus what is staying with me in DC.  Things to Philly are stashed in the living room, whereas things staying with me have been packed in boxes and stored in my extremely large (for inner city living standards) bathroom.

The bathroom which flooded this morning.

The very same bathroom which flooded two months ago, and looked like this 10 minutes AFTER the water was shut down (it was like Niagara Falls before they turned the water off):

Now, imagine that much water (perhaps a bit more), but gushing from my toilet instead.  And now, imagine all my packed boxes with the belongings I planned on keeping with me in DC soaking up all that toilet water.

Oh, but wait.  Certainly you already knew all this, because you were watching it unfold.  My life?  Is a joke.

Epiphany

Bright and early Sunday morning, as I was headed down to take dose my lab animals, I had an epiphany.

Remember back in elementary school when some classrooms had a “class pet” and students were able to take the [rabbit/guinea pig/hamster/other animal in a cage] home sometimes over the weekend?

What if the same could be done with lab critters?

Friday night comes, and you stack up all the cages, pack the animal toolbox up with syringes, needles, alcohol swabs, calipers, drug, and whatever else you need…. and take your work home with you.  Then, instead of the weekend morning ritual (alarm goes off obnoxiously early… nearly throw phone across room in frustration… lie in bed thinking about how much you hate the lab… how much you hate your animals… how much you hate your life… how much you hate that you are the only person in the lab stuck with daily dosing as opposed to M/W/F… how much you hate that your PI always talks about how he always took the Sabbath off during his research fellowship but doesn’t extend you the same courtesy… hate that you are the only one in the lab in a long-distance marriage yet never get to sleep in with your husband on the 2-4 days per month he comes to visit… hate your PI… etc etc etc), you could climb out of bed, quietly shuffle out to the living room, get yourself situated, dose your animals from the comfort of your pajamas, and then climb right back into bed.

I really think I’m on to something here.  I’m going to be starting another much larger study pretty soon, so maybe I’ll use this as a bargaining tactic.  “Why sure, PI, I’d be delighted to come orally doze a bazillion mice every day so you can get the drug into clinical trials ASAP… as long as I don’t have to physically go in on weekends to do it!”

Disgruntled Julie: A True Hero

This evening, I was just minding my own business at home when I heard a blood-curdling shriek come from across the hall, causing me to immediately jump up and make sure everyone was okay.

(Weeeellll…. kind of.  I had just finished elliptical-ing, and one of the big benefits to owning your own elliptical is that no one sees you while you work out, so first I had to put on a shirt, and then I cracked my door open a few millimeters to stick out an eyeball to make sure the screams weren’t because an axe murderer was lurking in my building.  Then I tentatively took the few steps across the hall, leaving my door open and my body pointing back towards my door, in the event said axe murderer answered, in hopes that I’d be able to bolt back to the safety of my own unit and slam the door in his face.)

My across-the-hall neighbor opened the door, pale and shaking.  “Oh (gasp) my (pant) G-d (pant, gasp) it’s (pant, pant, gasp)…. a (pant, pant, gasp)… (pant, pant, gasp, pant, building up the suspense….) MOUSE!”

Dun DA DUN!  SCIENTIST TO THE RESCUE!

I cornered the mouse, trapped him on a dustpan, and picked him up by the tail to carry him outside where he scampered off to freedom (and by scampered to freedom, I probably mean someone else’s apartment, where he may meet his ultimate demise via a mousetrap).

On my way out, my neighbor caught her breath enough to tell me that I was her hero.

That’s right.  Disgruntled Julie: Saving Single DC Women from Eenie, Weenie Terrifying Mice.

Well, at least one technique from the lab is useful in a real world setting.

(I really don’t understand why people are so terrified of mice.  Does she look vicious?)