Confessions of a Lazy Workaholic

Science is rough.

Having to do science as a job can be pretty rough, too, at times.  Not because I require an excessive amount of brain power to accomplish it, but because the amount of patience required to complete it should be considered saintly.  Wikipedia defines science as "a systematic enterprise that builds and organizes knowledge in the form of testable explanations and predictions about the universe."  It has its flaws, but it's not a bad definition, particularly the "testable" part.  It's all about experimentation and guessing, which means that 50% of my day is spent punching myself in the face when something goes wrong.  That's on a good day, mind you.

So I go home and rail against the wind because I don't understand anything and I can't make my sh** work.  It creeps into my subconscious when I'm lounging about in my underwear, trying not to think about anything at all.  At my old (probably more stressful) job, sometimes I had nightmares about things not working.  I would obsess about it during the day and let it sour my mood at night.

It's just a job, I try to convince myself.  But then if it's just a thing I do to pay the bills, why do I spend 1/3 of my day there?  Why do I waste 33% of my life on something that I don't care enough about to be more passionate about?

I'm talking faster to myself in my head -- it shouldn't be "just a job", right?  Shouldn't it be a passion? Because let's face it, Victoria, it's the only thing in this world that you're ever really going to affect, and you don't even have that much of an impact.

No, no, no, can't I use it to help the world?  Are you kidding me?  The world doesn't want your help, and your arms aren't long enough. Just you in your tiny corner of science where you're MacGyver'ing equipment with mismatched parts because you're not important to have the things you need to make real data because no one actually gives a sh** about what you produce.

And now I'm screaming at myself -- it's because you gave up to early; you should have stuck it out, shouldn't have listened to your father, should've just gone for your PhD and learned how to really think, amassed the knowledge you needed to make a difference.

It's not too late!  I could go back! Go back for a masters, just to start, just to see if I can do it.

Laughable - you don't have that kind of discipline.  Go back to your tiny world and your complacency.  Your job is good enough.  You do enough.  We're done here.

So I let it go, not thinking about it, letting myself be content with what I have, until the next time something breaks, and the cycle starts again.

Until the next.