Today was a bad day to be a mouse.

Well. For those of you not in the know (which I suspect is no one) I am something of a scientician. Or, what some might call a son of a bitch. In brief, I claimed the lives of 14 adorable brown and black mice today. An average of one every 15 minutes.

Then I took their blood.

And sometimes their brains.

This wasn't exactly business as usual but nor was it that unexpected. I'll be honest, it was pretty grisly and it's because of days like this I like to come home and do things that remind me not at all of the previous eight hours. It's a strange thing, animal research. Strange and a little sad, and a tiny bit fun. I must also admit...even when I am the direct proximate cause of a 5 week old black mouse drifting into a pentobarbital slumber forever I do like my job. My coworkers are smart and attractive. I've learned more by doing then I have by reading. I'll be published in scientific journals. And this'll probably make up for the cheerfully average grades when I apply for graduate studies.

I remain content in my position. I wonder how long that will last.