Moggy

You know how if you have cats, they go mental when there is a change in weather? From what I remember from when I was small, if the weather changed from the normal Durban humidity to a crisp chilly day, my cat would go insane. He would tear up and down the passage and attack me like a banshee. He loved me really. And my sister's cats turn into fruit loops when it snows here. You don't want to be a moving target on snow days. It's best to just stay in bed. Safer.

I think the term is: "moggy". Because they are cats and all, right?

Anyway, the weather here has made me go moggy too. It was pretty warm (ie above zero) and rainy and then all of a sardine it became icy and alternated between sun and snow. And I am going insane.

I seem to oscillate between jubilation and despair. But mostly hysteria. For some reason everything is vastly funny to me. And I want to run around the room and do cartwheels and go catch snowflakes on my tongue.

I spend most of my time alone at work because my colleagues work in an office and I am in the lab. I have no one to tell my hilarious jokes to. The other day I was giggling to myself for about 15 minutes about the word "soutpiel*". I'm not sure I want to be explaining about penises dangling into the sea to my superiors anyway. People are deadly serious around here.

As I have no one with which to share the intense hilarity that is life, I have started hosting conversations in my head where I explain to imaginary people how funny it all is. Also I keep grinning manically and snorting. I think I am scaring the post doc who does wander into the lab on occasion. And when anyone does come near me I start prattling until I see their startled faces. Then I start giggling again. It would be best if they all just stayed in bed, really. Safer.

I have finally cracked. It is true what they say, if you spend too much time alone, you will start talking to your pet weeds and their little fly friends.

At least they talk back.

*Afrikaans word for English speaking South Africans, meaning "salty penis". Because they have one foot in England, one in South Africa, and your sausage** dangling in the sea.

**white boerewors!***

***pity it will be so small and shriveled.

Insane in the membrane

As I have said many times before, I am no scientist. Which is a bit tricky considering I am... a scientist. But not a real one, I am half a scientist, a pretend one.

Often at work I feel like a 5 year old trying to have an adult conversation with the grownups. For some reason they seem to humour me, and accept me like this. I'm not so sure I can accept me like this, not forever anyway.

I have two major theories as to the difference between me and real scientists. Any additional postulations are welcome.

The first can be thought of as THE QUANTITY theory:

Pretty self-explanatory I feel, but this theory does not agree with my ego, so I am leaning towards this one-

The Structural theory:

exhibit A: Inside the Scientist's brain

As you can see, there is a central idea thread there, with further ideas feeding off that one and interlinking and subdividing. But no matter how branched the idea becomes, there is still that anchor that pulls it all back to the central idea, like a miraculous tree of life.

exhibit B: Inside my brain

The definition of scatterbrained, yes? Apart from the large focus point on FOOD, there are fizzles and sparks and moments of inspiration and insight. But nothing is connecting. I feel that my brain is like a giant dot-to-dot, and if only I could join them up, it would all make sense.

However - and this sums me up in one short sentence -

I have lost my pen.