My fingers have their own minds

After some more googling, I've concluded that I got the "introduction" section of my proposal mixed up with the "literature review" section and have thus effectively thwarted my own attempt to write the entire thing in order. (It's more logical to my brain and will speed up the experimental design process that way-- or that was the plan, anyway.)

It's always a little discouraging, when you've managed to thwart yourself without even trying.

In addition, much to my own bemusement (or is it amusement? Anyway, by now it's definitely amusement), I kept typing "dopaminergic" when I meant to type "cholinergic". Clearly my mind is hung up on Parkinson's and very reluctant to switch over to Alzheimer's, despite of the fact that I just read three papers on Alzheimer's -- okay, they're all focused on golgi fragmentation but the idea is there. (The proposal will be on the role of golgi fragmentation as cause / indicator for neurodegeneration; it's based on a 2008 paper on Cdk5 and golgi fragmentation in Alzheimer's, if anyone's interested.) (Presentation today on the mechanisms of cancer cell metastasis went v. well, by the way.)

One of my classmates who rotated in my current lab fall quarter is thinking of joining my current lab. He pointed out that this is one of the most well-funded labs, which is true. He will never have to worry about the PI running out of funding to support the grad students. It does not, however, make my current experience any more pleasant. I think I'll take my risks and learn to write really good research proposals. That way I can try for my own training grant (NIH and NSF are surprisingly grad student friendly, all things considered) and it should decrease the lab-funding-risk worse case scenario, should everything go pear shaped three years down the road. (Which has happened to other students before.) (You hear horror stories from the upperclassmen.)

Conclusion? My current proposal-assignment is therefore very useful. Very annoying, but very useful.

My living room looks like a file cabinet has regurgitated on the floor. There are four stacks of paper that I can see without moving from my current spot. I no longer know which stack contains what. There is at least another stack in my bedroom, not counting the stuff that I've filed on the bookshelf.

I still want a cat, but moments like these that make me thankful that I don't have one. Otherwise there's a very high chance that I'll return from my nightly coma tomorrow morning and find that half of my review article's been chewed off and that someone's gnawed through the wire to my laptop. That'd make me sad. And the cat will probably have a bad case of food poisoning. As the saying goes, food for thought requires a mind with teeth, and thoughts for food requires...a stomach that can handle copious amounts of printer paper, plastic, colored ink, and possibly staples. (Note: colored ink from printers may contain heavy chemicals.)

...Maybe I'm thinking of a goat, and not a cat, after all.

I think I've reached that stage of the day when I'm very confused and probably shouldn't be allowed to wander around by myself. Well then. Good night.