At a Slug's Pace

To complete my master's program I need to write a thesis.  To write a thesis I need research.  To do research I need a lab, and to have a lab I need an advisor (referred to from now on as PI, or primary investigator, who frequently serve as professors in fine universities such as my own).  Three weeks before Christmas, and two before finals, my PI informed me that in a few short months, he will be packing up his belongings and moving across the world to the far away state of Texas.  Had anyone else shared this news, I'd offer to buy them a pair of cowboy boots to help the aclimate to their new environment.  However, I was less than overjoyed to hear it from him, since it also means he'll be packing up his frogs - the necessary tool for my research thus far.

I spent the Christmas holiday labless, which in the science community is not far away from being homeless.  And then these little cuties were introduced into my life. Tritonia diomedea. That's science 

C'mon.  Tell me this little guy isn't cute.

for slug.  He eats sea pens and can only move by contracting in half and letting the water whisk him away from impending doom.  I'm now the wandering grad student, floating from lab to lab, trying them all on for size and creating a massive pro-con list.  I've moved from a state of anger and frustration about wasting 8 months worth of work on frogs and allowed my heart to be softened.  I've accepted the challenge of passing my knowledge on to the less qualified classmates.  In the process I've suddenly found the community I've been searching for.  Others are treking through the same unknown I am.  Does my experiment actually work?  Will I get any data? And if I do will it mean anything? How long will I be here?  How long can I afford to be here?  My eyes have been opened to students who have been here for 4 months and those here for 4 years.  Some have set up the lab with their PI, and others have skated by on simply taking pictures and comparing them.  Either way, we all have stories of our adventures here.  We know each other's labs and the crazy hours that constitute our schedules.  We all know the treachery of grading undergraduate lab work.  We all know the struggle of failure, and are constantly fighting off the call of defeat.  We also all know the local coffee shop and bakery (probably too well).  We know the quickest route to Tahoe for a weekend of letting off steam.  We know there's someone to listen to our whines.  And we know we're all in this together.  I'm not alone in my journey anymore.