'They switched his tanks and he was inhaling pure liquid nitrogen... he's frozen solid.'

AAAAARGH. Regulators!! Pressure!! The part where an oxygen tank would EXPLODE if you filled it full of liquid nitrogen! Heat transfer rates! Humans flinching away from cold weird gases coming out of oxygen masks!

The thing where, when you turn on a LN2 tank, it takes a few minutes for the hose cool off until, you know, LIQUID comes out....

Miscellaneous, Or, The Baby's Asleep

• Days of baby screaminess.
• Followed by sleepy cuteness all day today.
• Too much chocolate.
• Jittery.
• Waaaaaay too much chocolate.
• Feeling slightly oppressed by my (self-imposed) grocery budget.
• So much house-painting, so little time.
• So many EARWIGS, so little pesticide.
• My in-laws continue to suffer from a disconnect between desires and choices. For instance: if you deeply desire to see your grandson, do not choose to do six other entirely optional things during the time when you would, instead, be visiting.
• Sometimes they drive me CRAAAAAAZY.
  

Transitions, Part 3: Exit Strategy to Pregnant With A Side Of What Now?

Science editing! It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I looked at science editing jobs. By now I was married, and had a spouse to consider. They were all in [places we didn't want to live]. Also, like college teaching jobs, the journals all wanted a postdoc first. Because clearly writing and editing experience would be useless to a journal editor.* When you think about it, that explains A LOT....

I slowly (and then more rapidly) came to the end of my patience. I was no longer learning anything useful in my PhD work, except how to tell people to piss off in ever more creative and forceful ways, and how to avoid being mugged. Every time I talked about an exit plan, Advisor said "We'll see."

I told my advisor that I was leaving. Also that I was pregnant. And it went over surprisingly well, demonstrating that, occasionally, doing whatever the hell you want pays off. I wandered off to Cold State, because the spouse had a postdoc there. (He still harbors fond hopes of academic jobs. Also, his grad lab was much less awful than mine.)

I sat around for a few months recovering from the flashbacks and the panic attacks and the depression. I got 5 months pregnant.

I got really, really, really bored.

Next: From Here To Industry In 5,000 Easy Steps

*Favorite quote, from an editor at Nature: "Well, Nature usually requires a postdoc. But Science doesn't..."

Transitions, Part 2: Academia to Oh, Hey, Job Skills

Academia! There are very few other professions where one is paid peanuts to work 60-hour weeks for ten years (scientists) or six-to-eight-to-adjunct years (everyone else), all for a one-in-three chance of a poorly-paid job.

Look, if you want to be an academic, or love research, or don't mind academia, good for you. Really, I mean it. Academia isn't all bad. But most PhDs, even in science, will not end up in academia. My experience was, in academia, they train as if everyone will be an academic. When one then finds it undesirable or impossible, it can be a devastating transition.

**********

Back to our regularly scheduled angst recap!

After a few years of tears, depression, unreproducable results, being scooped- you get the idea- I decided that I loved science, but academia and I needed a trial separation.

My advisor was not keen on us doing anything but science-80-hours-a-week. So I didn't tell the advisor, who was never satisfied, no matter how hard I worked. Fine! Let's work less. Advisor thought I was never in lab enough. Great, let's be there less. I might as well do something else- useful to me.* After all, if there's no pleasing some people, why try?

I volunteered at the local middle school, helping kids do creative science projects. I judged the science fairs, and sat on the floor, talking to kindergarteners about pennies and barometers. I did science demos in the inner city. I took classes on science ed (one of which was spectacularly good). I thought about being a high school teacher.

I looked at my home state's requirements. I'd have to get a Master's degree at my own expense- all the teaching I had done was clearly useless, you see- and then be paid roughly $30,000. With my PhD. Um, what? I should... work really hard to do something underappreciated, for peanuts? Er, too late.

I started working with a small journal. I worked really damn hard. I eventually became editor-in-chief. I directed several major projects, including putting100 years of archives online. I was quite good at it. I liked it. How about a science editing job? That's like science research! Only with less academia!

Next: Oh, That's A Funny Idea. Ha. Ha.


*If I get any more comments to the effect that I should have been a good little robot and worked harder, I WILL DELETE THEM. I know how damn hard I worked, and it would never have been enough.

My advisor once said to SuperStar Postdoc** "Oh, SuperStar, you used to work so hard". Because SSP was only working 70 hours a week at that point. I am not kidding.

**(6 papers in 3 years, 15 job interviews, 6 job offers, ended up in That City With Wind at FancyPants U, $900,000 startup money, thankyouvery much)

Can't Talk Now, Nailing In Flooring

So far it is gorgeous. It looks kind of like this, but nicer. However, we must evacuate the Bug whenever the air nailer is in use, else wailing ensues.

By Popular Demand

Not Dead Yet

We do, in fact, take a lot of walks.

I have all kinds of fun things to tell you about: temptations to canicide, the previous owners' notion of home improvement, SPIDERS, Morgan The Scottie Dog, and all our sweet, retired, aggressively friendly neighbors (tally of things brought over so far, in 10 days: rhubarb coffee cake, banana bread, lettuce, spinach, peonies, wading pool).

However, I am busy removing !@#$%! WALLPAPER PASTE !@#$%! and spackling over approximately 2,569 pushpin holes. Who uses pushpins on drywall???

Oh, and I fried our wireless, so now we have to stay on hold until That One Guy In Jersey (you know, the one phone company employee who knows what he's doing) can take charge of our router and reset it. Again.

But, dear friends, once it is possible to remove the computer from the basement floor, I shall type! Also I have more to say about leaving academia, of course. (RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!!!)