#humanthermocycler, #cardboard, #running

Running always makes me want to write. Especially those runs where you just don’t seem to get tired, where you fly down the road, beneath those orange leaves, on a carpet of music. Especially Sigma. Today I will discuss several current issues in my life. Most importantly the #humanthermocycler and my IKEA mirror experience. And then some random thoughts.

Somehow, running somewhere familiar always brings back memories of other places I’ve ran at. Today I remembered that time I saw a butterfly as large as my hand in Guararema. And a capybara. Maybe it was the song “Burn” by Ellie Goulding that brought back these images. Songs trigger memories. Accompany your moments by music and you will relive them over and over again. Today I discovered Chance the rapper.

Now I shall describe to you the fantastic activity that is being a human thermocycler. My lab does currently still lack all sorts of machines. Scales. Centrifuges. And a thermocycler. Thus, PCR or reverse transcription (For the non-scientists: These are methods to make lots of copies of a piece of DNA or to make DNA from a bit of RNA) have to either be performed using some other lab’s machines or by transferring the tubes manually between situations of different temperature. Last week I did lots of reverse transcriptions: Incubate 10 min at room temperature. Transfer to the heat block of 55°C for 5 min. Leave in the 37°C incubator for 2h. Heat block of 85°C 5 min. And finally ice. That was tedious enough. Please God. Do not make me do PCRs this way.

I did “come dine with me” last week. One of the guys on the other team had a particular preference for “open-bar” funerals. I don’t really know what else to say with regards to that matter.

For those of you who have not yet had the luck to hear my complaints about my IKEA mirror failure, here is what happened, including a photo: At IKEA, I saw a really nice mirror with a black decorative frame. Next to it, I saw the same type of frame, with a protective foil on the bit that would be the mirror. So I spent 25£ of my #WellcomeTrust money on this wonderful piece. However, upon unpacking it at home I had to discover to my horror that it was in fact not a mirror but a picture frame. The same frame. One is a mirror one is a picture frame. Oh IKEA. Why? God clearly hates me. A friend who is a chemistry PhD may be able to turn the sad piece into a functional device for self-appreciation. In the meantime it remains on my wall as what today was very accurately described as “having an instagram filter on it”. #cardboard

Who needs #nofilter when they can have #cardboard

I want to go running every day this week. Songs in my head. Old songs. New songs. Friends’ songs. Songs of many times and places. It’s time to go play some Chopin now. Because his nocturnes have accompanied me since a very young age. They are like threads of different colours, united in one big blanket of crochet squares that is my life. And before it gets too cringe here I will say that I do not recommend chicken, whipped cream, peanut butter and chocolate crepes. I’ve been feeling sick all afternoon. Don’t ask.