I should state at the outset that what follows includes brief mention of that creationism/ID stuff, so if you’re not interested, that’s fine, but I let you know as I wouldn’t want to waste your time, because I know what wasting time feels like, particularly this week, when I’ve achieved bugger-all, aside from looking after my boss’s students whilst he’s away hobnobbing at meetings and what-not, so somebody’s got to help out with theses and dissertations, and last-minute lab experiments that should have been done weeks ago but weren’t, but it’s not their fault; and, anyway, we shouldn’t blame students because they’re not experts; they’re here to learn, although sometimes learning to shift that middle-class-mum-will-clear-my-plate-for-me mindset takes some work (“The team first, always the team.” Billy Bremner), and we shouldn’t complain, after all it’s part of being a postdoc, and we should ‘give back’, and I actually quite enjoy it, particularly on weeks like this when battalions of frustration are amassing on multiple fronts, including the interminable grind of counting and re-counting 96-well plates of stained cells, such twitch-inducing dullness necessitating almost as many pauses as a John Motson commentary; and I had to see a dental specialist (special dentist?) yesterday and, in short, it comes down, after replacing the busted crown, to between 40 quid to have the adjacent molar out (which might not resolve the problem)… or four grand for orthodontic-shifting of the whole set; hmmm, what to do? Such a dilemma blind-sides, such that I was rapidly Sainbury’s-suckered into a whole roast corn-fed (as opposed to?) chicken for £2-99, and damn near scoffed the whole thing in one go; which makes me think again of the loss this week of a member of the family, because that’s what a lovely, sociable dog who has been around for fourteen years is, really; and I’ve been doing some more thinking on that Blair fella; leafing through some back copies of NewScientist (there’s no flies on my sources), I came across an interview with him a couple of years back, in which he said something like, as long as teaching creationism (well, I did warn you) is not becoming mainstream, then it’s not a problem, because that would be when to worry; I’ll say, because it would be a bit bloody late then, wouldn’t it?! So, I should be collecting tissue and setting up cultures right now, only I’m not (because I’m writing this instead, which I shouldn’t be, because I don’t get paid to do this), and consequently won’t be coming in to attend to cultures over the weekend; rather, I’m going to sort out my tip of a flat, and listen to some Zeppelin (always makes me feel better), hopefully without overstressing my octogenarian neighbour; and look forward to Lucy Porter making me laugh on Sunday, and trying not to think about what I’m going to say to my boss next week when he queries me again about that string vest of a draft I’m supposed to be compiling.