How’s the research coming along ?
You know it’s nearly eleven here, right ?
Ahh, sorry, I sometimes forget time zones are a thing. I usually just rely on the time on my phone to be correct with all the traveling I do.
No worries just wanted to point it out. I actually just finished things up for the night and I made some real progress.
Any chance you want to regale me with this progress over the phone. I may be just a bit bored.
I could… but no promises I stay awake long enough to get through it all.
1 MISSED CALL
Sorry, I was in the lab when you called earlier. Was it important ?
Nothing urgent. Just wanted to check if you’re free to grab lunch on Friday. The team plane lands at midnight the night before, and Coach knows I have to wrap things up with Nyberg and the apartment in the morning, so I’m only expected to be at the arena for pre-game skate at 3.
I’m free on Friday, but any chance we can meet near the university ? My car’s been on the fritz again lately.
Can do ! Anywhere particular you have in mind ?
Whatever’s good with you is good with me
I squinted at the screen, lifting my glasses as I leaned in-as if that would magically solve the problem with my spreadsheet that I couldn’t seem to find. Some of my results from the tests I’d run over the past three weeks were coming out similar to how I’d hoped, while two runs had damaged the cells to a point that the proteins had become denatured and were unable to perform the function they’d been built to.
The data I was studying tonight, however, had come from the experiment I let sit overnight before recording the results bright and early this morning. There had to be something wrong with my calculations though, because at first glance, the experiment had appeared successful. The proteins looked strong, the cells had held up, and I’d gotten sufficient data showing the cells ability to metabolize under the conditions I’d set. The only problem was the graph that’d come up once I’d pulled the metabolic data over. Instead of its usual shape-spiking early before decreasing over several hours-there was a second spike.
Which just didn’t make sense.
Until I realized the problem wasn’t with the data, but the spreadsheet itself. For some reason, the formula I had used to calculate the oxygen concentration in the cells hadn’t been copied over correctly for ten of the values, causing an anomaly with my graph.
A silly mistake. One of several I’d made lately, though I’d luckily caught them all before they’d affected anything significantly. Whether they were due to the lack of sleep-because who had time to sleep when they had such a tight deadline-or the extra caffeine, however, was anybody’s guess.
Though it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility for my attention to be wavering because of the countless hours I spent working-more or less from the moment I woke up every morning until I went to bed. If I ate, I typically ate in front of a screen. If I took a break, I had my phone in my hand to jot down notes or theories that could help with my next round of tests. And even when I tried to wind down and get ready for bed, my mind was always working. The cogs never completely shutting off.
Which, in retrospect, I knew wasn’t healthy. After all, the same kind of work ethic had caused a similar, yet much worse, tailspin back when I’d started my PhD. But this was different. I only had two weeks-three at max-to wrap up my testing and results before I had to get to work on the new version of my final report and presentation.
This craziness had a deadline.
One that I was well too aware of.
However, I was snapped out of my internal worry when I heard three raps on my apartment door.
Furrowing my brows as I glanced toward the doorway, I waited a few seconds to see if whoever it was would knock again. And they did.
Confused, because I knew I hadn’t buzzed anyone in, I stood up and walked over to the door. Peering into the peephole, I saw Esme and Harper’s familiar faces looking back at me. It’d been over two weeks since I’d seen them face to face-the last time being the morning of the trade deadline when we’d met up for our weekly Monday morning catch ups. The last two Mondays, however, I’d skipped, choosing instead to start early in the lab.
In fact, now that I thought about it, I’d skipped out on a lot of things outside of work.
For good reason, in my opinion, but I’d still done it.
Opening the door, I shot them both a look of curiosity. Hey, I said, waving them in. What are you guys doing here ?
They eyed one another as I closed the door behind them. Well, we just wanted to check in on you, Esme said, a carefulness to her words. We know you’ve been really busy these last couple weeks, and- She glanced in the direction of my desk, which was, of course, a tornado of a mess. -we wanted to make sure you weren’t over doing it.
Yeah, I’m fine, I was quick to respond.
Harper quirked a brow. You sure ?
I mean… mostly, I said meekly before sighing and running my fingers through my hair. It’s just, a lot is going on right now with work. I walked over to my couch and sank onto it. Even though my defense got pushed back to accommodate my latest hypothesis, I’m more or less trying to cram a semester’s worth of experiments into a few weeks while still prepping lessons and help sessions for the students I’m teaching.