Busybee

Sometimes good things fall into your lap. And in my lap was an offer to work a temp job! Gift-giving, traveling, paying one's rent, eating, beering: these all require some cash. (I wanted to type 'cashola' but I didn't. Wait, I just did.) So, anywho, I'm working as a research assistant to a biology Ph.D student here. He's finishing up a project that deals with the amount of pollen that certain types of bees accumulate during their routines. I really don't know any of the proper terminology for this. If I did I'd use it. Luckily, he didn't really need a biology student; he just needed someone who had a super open schedule and the ability to peer into fancy binoculars and count pollen. That's right. The bees gathered it and now I'm counting it (tax free).




Now, I count the pollen and then enter it into tables. I'm assuming that the numbers eventually will be crunched, calculated, clustered and finally concluded upon. I'm not involved in that part. But what I want to be involved in is The Wild Machine. That's right, The Wild Machine (as I've named it) sits to the left of my workstation. The Wild Machine is not to be turned on. The Wild Machine is not to be stared at for an extended amount of time. And by all means The Wild Machine is not to be taunted. So, how wild do you really want to get?