I want to cry. I want to give up. I'm thinking maybe I don't need, and definitely don't deserve another degree. I'm looking over a collection of bottles--hard won, argued over, anticipated with the kind of feeling generally reserved for children (okay, maybe that's a slight exaggeration, but you get the idea)--and wondering if there's any possible way to identify them based on the few green and black smudges that are left on their otherwise identical faces. Is there some chemical analysis, other than the ones I've already planned, that will magically reveal the location from which the samples were collected? Is there some secret spy trick that I can use to ferret out the missing digits that were washed off the carefully made, but ultimately inadequate labels? Could I taste or smell some minute difference that will allow me to match these mystery samples with the waters they should be connected to? Alas, I fear the umbilici that should match parent water to brine shrimp offspring were cut long, long ago, and the matching ends shriveled and thrown off before I had any inkling to wonder at their connectedness.
It was such a beautiful day until I came into work.