In an attempt take my mind off the heat, perhaps I should reflect on the coolness of the past two weeks. The last time I started a new job (over four years ago, really?!), I was timid, nervous, and withdrawn. Ah, how times have changed. Practicing my newfound technique of self-deceit and false confidence, I approached my new position as student lab tech with gusto, smiling and chatting and pretending not to be overwhelmed. I thought working in the lab at the veterinary medical center would be dry and cold, as opposed to working in the front of the hospital where you get slobbery, hairy, and hot (and love every minute of it). I thought I would hate it. Thank God I thought wrong (it does happen, on rare occasion). Though one or two of my coworkers may be a little chilly (maybe it's just the air conditioning), everyone's personalities are starting to reveal themselves the longer I'm there. It's quite a cast of characters - I may or may not have cast a sitcom in my mind. Repetitive to no end, the work follows a regular routine of preparing and running samples over and over again. As a creature of habit, happy to wallow in monotony like a beetle in a dung heap, I find myself quite content and suited to lab work. In two weeks, I've learned more about blood than I did that time I watched the Miracle of Life video at the Museum of Science (the horror. THE HORROR). Sometimes they even let me play with cerebrospinal fluid! You know you've chosen the right area of study (a little late to be unsure of wanting to be a vet now, though, isn't it?) when, after sitting through over three hours of online lectures about red blood cell anomalies, find yourself wanting to get some popcorn and settle in for the next episode. So I started the summer in the familiar milieu of the front of the house, so to speak, the business end of an animal hospital - messy, hectic, full of new people, pets, and peril (I'm looking at you, cats who need to be handled with hawk gloves) - and am finishing it behind the scenes - cool, ordered, sterile (until someone splatters the vial of monkey urine and we have to summon the hazmat team), and routine. To my pleasant surprise, I still feel right at home. Maybe I am cut out to be a doctor after all (did I mention my stethoscope came in the mail yesterday?) ...
What kind of ass leads with "I have nothing to say" then proceeds to run their mouth (or keyboard, as it may be) for that long? About a subject no one but their mom and aunts (yes, I see you all out there) care about? As an apology, let me leave you with some pictures from the past few days - my adventures in St. Paul.
Some ugly food (I could blame it on the terrible lighting in the kitchen, but this one was truly hideous - quinoa quiche with summer squash crust - sounds much more appealing than it appears)
|Scenes from the St. Paul farmer's market - huge and completely local|
|$7.75 buys two heads of lettuce, cauliflower, a gigantic bunch of basil, two bunches of beets (red and golden), a honey-stick, and a yellow zucchini bigger than a body-builder's forearm (the picture really doesn't do it justice)|
|My ferocious guard dog - striking fear into the heart of no one|
|... except a pair of my shoes ("Who, me?")|