Run #1

-- of my study is underway. The day started at 6:30, when I stepped out of my apartment into the coldest predawn of winter so far, several degrees under zero, and the wind like icicles stabbing into my lungs. There was no one else out and about, no food trucks with steam and good food smells, and by the time I reached the hospital I was in a very miserable state. With no time to thaw, I stuttered my way through the nurses' briefing like an apoplectic, and got an A for looking like a complete idiot. So much for good first impressions.

The rest of the day was running up and down locating missing signage and battling Matlab with spears and trying to reassure The Advisor that I know what the hell is going on with this project. I sense looming catastrophe, and all because of a very simple formula: Successful Research = constant - k*number of people involved*chance each of those people will perpetrate a FUBAR. Now, (1) there are too many people involved in this project, and (2) judging from past experience, k, which is variable between but stable within individuals, = about 18,214 for me. In the ex-Boss' lab, there were very few people directly involved with data collection: me, and WC, and M____, and maybe one or two other interns that I could bitchslap around, and who didn't really count as people, so there was enough in the way of damage control to prevent the last project I did from being a total disaster. This is a whole different kettle of fish: undergraduate work-study students (OMG), pre-med interns, and nurses with minds of their own. Basically, I'm screwed.

I was supposed to meet Ewa in the Green Line after dinner to discuss the regression problems for tomorrow, but she called to cancel because SAS is still kicking her butt. I thought this was good news in terms of keeping warm, but the central heating in the apartment isn't coping too well with the weather, and cold is seeping in through the walls and floorboards, so that anywhere outside of a two-foot diameter of the radiator is intolerable. It's exhausting. I'm going to make hot tea, and not do any more work today (although I should). I picked up, at random, The Minus Man, by Lew McCreary; I'm going to crawl into bed with it, and hope that it's as good as the blurb suggests.