This afternoon I’m nauseated. And not because I had to guillotine a rat for the first time in my life… (My labmate is leaving and I need to be trained to do her job because we have not as of yet to found an unsuspecting new graduate to take up her work when she leaves NEXT WEEK. Holy Shit.)

But I’m nauseated because I had a bad phonecall with Hubbin today. Actually it was a bad series I think but I didn’t realize till after the second one. Nothing serious, but there’s something about ending a phonecall in a bad manner that just really gets to me. Gets to me in the anxiety producing, nausea eliciting kind of way.

My labmate was showing me how to dissect the rat and I was watching, so the first phone call I answered and chatted briefly saying that no I didn’t know where his wallet was. He could check my purse in the closet but that I was quite sure I gave it back to him after the movie last night.

Then I started on my rat and was carefully seperating the layers of connective tissue from the vagina, which are by the way all exactly the same color, when the phone rang. Well the vagina is the part we’re studying so I couldn’t answer. Matt, a collaborator who was also observing because we will be doing her work after she leaves, asked if I wanted him to answer. I said “sure, answer and ask to take a message because I’m up to my elbows in vagina”. So Matt answers and was pretty sarcastic saying I couldn’t come to the phone because I was in the middle of dissecting and could he take a message. (Though he said more along the lines of what I said). I laughed. But then Hubbin’ hung up on him. And now I feel awful.

Now Hubbin’ isn’t answer my calls or my text message.

…..It was by the way my deepest fear that we would not find someone to replace my labmate before she left and I would have to do her job too. Now my deepest fears have been realized. Blah…..


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