The winter of our discontent

Because I've working in the Chandler lab since June of last year, I think it is necessary to highlight the differences between what I did then and what I am doing now. I will focus on my early morning duties, because they are the subject of the greatest polar shift in opinion.

For the duration of the summer, one of my jobs was to take care of the plants in greenhouse #5. It seems silly, but I began to hate these motionless stalks of corn for a number of reasons. One, they were selfish. It was the middle of July and I was forced to abide by their growing conditions: 100 Fahrenheit, and 100% humidity. I stress that this is not hyperbole. My other point of annoyance was that they were thankless. I was not able to use them as shade from the sun, eat their cobs, or attach my name to the published paper of which their genes were the subject.

Although it may seem like I am still slaving over little green jerks, something is very different. I ride in the darkness knowing that in minutes I will find myself in a room that can only be described as balmy.

Shakespeare may have been a genius, but even he could not have foreseen that many of the items of discontent brought by winter can be dodged by spending time in greenhouse #5.