At home in the dead end of nowhere for the Christmas break, I ponder freedom. The monotomic substance has the fewest degrees of freedom; three corresponding to the three dimensions of space. As the number of atoms in a substance increase, so does its opportunities for diversity and change. Here, alone and with only empty space around me, I feel claustrophobic, confined, trapped.

I need to get back to civilisation.

She's electric

When electrons are transferrered between materials, a build up of electric charge can result. This static charge will disperse itself at the first available opportunity in the form of a mini lightening bolt; a small electric shock. Such static shocks have been the bane of my life recently, I've got them from electrical equipment, lab apparatus, dressing gowns, jumpers; even my poor dog for god's sake.

I guess it's just my electrfying personality....or maybe I should stop wearing cheap tights.

Panic stations

I'm starting to panic. Being a science student, I have recently received a number of emails advertising some very attractive PhDs, and in just my area as well. Being a writer, I have received precisely zero invitations to be paid for writing.

Maybe I should conform to the laws of thermodynamics and just remain in the lower energy state, thus remain a student for four more years.

I guess it couldn't hurt to apply...

Besides the threat of further education, I have kept myself occupied by developing a habit for dressing up for lab every day. Scrap that, not for lab, for the precious minutes in between lab sessions when I actually have human contact. Unfortunately, the only people who have thus far noticed have been other scientists. Appreciated, of course, but objective comments from those outside the concrete walls of the physics department are what are really sought, and have been in short supply.

Damn those art students who manage to achieve aesthetic perfection so effortlessly.