"Damn, it's cold in here!" I muttered to myself as I seated myself at the lab bench."Damn, it's cold in here!" I muttered to myself as I seated myself at the lab bench. Cold indeed, at only four degrees Celsius, barely a frosty breath away from freezing temperature. Cold enough to keep proteins and nucleic acids from denaturing, cold enough to keep antibodies in their active form. And cold enough to make me fervently wish for something to keep me warm. It was a Saturday, and almost midnight at that, and it was just as much my stagnating social life which brought me here as it was the necessity of processing my latest experiment. Ever since my breakup with Brian, home had seemed a lonely place, and I had taken to anesthetizing myself in the routine of research. Appropriate then, I thought, that I should find myself sequestered in the tiny cold room...cold, alone, and lonely. And so I sighed a cloud of resignation and began to arrange my pipets, bulbs, and vials to my liking. Before long I became immersed in my work, my mind and body smoothly coordinated in the mental and physical exercise of processing results. I had just finished the first series of washes when I was startled by the loud snap-crack of the door's seal and, with a rush of warm air, Paul entered. I was never so confused in my entire life. A thousand questions, reminders, and reprimands competed inside my mind for priority. |