Many biologists grew up liking animals. That’s why they became biologists. Not me. I never had a particular interest in animals, never had pets, never brought in animals from outdoors. My interest in the local wildlife only emerged after I had been working as a (molecular and computational) biologist for some time. Walking to and from the lab, you start to notice things.
What have I been up to this last month? Obviously, it wasn’t writing blog posts. No, dear reader, I have been moving. Moving house, moving jobs, moving everything. Specifically, I have moved from sunny California to also-sunny-at-the-moment Massachusetts to take a new job in Boston (more about this at some later point).
This is another thing about my life as a scientist: It has allowed (and partly required) me to move around quite a bit. I did my first degree in one place (interrupted by a study semester in a different place), then I went elsewhere for my Master’s thesis, then elsewhere again for my PhD, then elsewhere as a short-term visiting scholar, then elsewhere for my postdoc, and then elsewhere again and here I am. Overall, my studies and work have involved six countries, four languages and three continents, and that is only counting the places where I have spent six months or more. In general, I find this cool and exciting. Except when I’m actually in the process of moving between two places. Then I find it tedious and difficult.