No really, I am fine.

Today, I had a tube of cells explode at my face. There must have been some liquid nitrogen under the cap that didn't take well be being out in the air before I thawed it. As I leaned over my bucket of dry ice to do the combination on the cell culture lab, I heard a shot ring out and I was slapped under the chin. In the absence of all that noise I felt a little deaf for a moment. No one else was around, there was nothing on the floor to signify what happened. But my tube was completely annihilated. I found a shard under my shirt, and the lid buried in the dry ice, but the rest I haven't found.

I am fine- physically. But the tiny explosion actually set me off mentally for the rest of the day. If Tony Snow was the ultimate professional for separating his feelings from his job, then I am the ultimate sap. I feel personally invested in every aspect of what I do. So losing the tube to a common lab fatality was like losing a lot more to me (apparently this happens all the time). This was the ONLY tube of these cells I had. This tube was sent to me special. This tube was sent to me special by someone I had been really intimidated to talk to at the meeting in Madison, but was of course a very helpful guy and brilliant scientist. This tube had been such a major hurdle for me, but I got it! And then it exploded. I took it as a sign not to try any more experiments for the day. I spent the rest of the afternoon mourning the loss of the tube, the loss of this small triumph. Maybe this personal investment isn't really helping me out in the long run.