{"id":626,"date":"2007-08-27T22:00:00","date_gmt":"2007-08-27T22:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/mindthegap\/2007\/08\/27\/in_which_i_pine_after_a_decent_vending_machine\/"},"modified":"2007-08-27T22:00:00","modified_gmt":"2007-08-27T22:00:00","slug":"in_which_i_pine_after_a_decent_vending_machine","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/mindthegap\/2007\/08\/27\/in_which_i_pine_after_a_decent_vending_machine\/","title":{"rendered":"In which I pine after a decent vending machine"},"content":{"rendered":"

When I look back on my research career, one thing that stands out over the years is a particular sensation deep within \u2013 a nagging, pressing imperative that preys on your innards. It’s so subtle that you can sense it only during the rare idle moments that punctuate otherwise endless stretches of adrenalin-fuelled activity: leaning against the centrifuge, say, waiting those final few seconds for the rotor to swish to a stop and the lid-lock to release with a satisfying clank<\/em>; resting your forehead against the plexiglass shield of the tissue culture hood, watching the hypnotic dribble of your pink medium through the membrane of the vacuum filter device; zoning out as you rub a frozen tube between your hands, trying to speed up the thawing of its contents.<\/p>\n

\n\"\"<\/p>\n

\nSnacks: should be budgeted into the lab grant<\/strong> <\/p>\n

\nWhat is this urge? It’s not the desire to succeed, to win the Nobel, to cure cancer, to get your paper in Nature<\/em>. It’s not even the desire to make the world a better place. No, it’s hunger. And I don’t mean hunger in an aesthetic, I’d-quite-fancy-a-honey-roasted-chicken-sandwich-with-aioli-and-pesto kind of way. I’m talking nutrition. Enough nutrition, specifically, to make it through the day (and night, if applicable) without passing out and being discovered by the cleaners lying on the floor in a wild tangle of lab coat and electrophoresis leads at 6 a.m.<\/p>\n

\nI don’t know if it’s just me, but I often find myself not eating for long periods at the lab. This wasn’t such an issue in the editorial office; I’d work intently at my desk, snacking as needed. But in a lab, you have to make a definitive break: remove your gloves, wash your hands, locate your wallet and seek out that carbon source \u2013 overall, an activation energy barrier that sometimes proves too high to overcome.<\/p>\n

\nI have to say that my current building is woefully underequipped. I’m a salty snack kind of girl, and the only sustenance provided in the Common Room besides coffee, tea and an array of sweet or chocolatey items is a small basket of Mini-Cheddar packets, usually decimated like a gazelle carcass on the savannah by 3 PM. There’s no vending machine and no canteen. Of course UCL is situated around hundreds of caf\u00e9s and delis, but that would require actually leaving the building altogether (see above). I miss trekking to the basement for an icy-cold can of Coke, or dithering between ten different forms of fluorescent orange, processed cheese-inspired items, or \u2013 best of all \u2013 trying to decide which plastic-wrapped sandwich on the multilayered refrigerated carousel is least likely to be infected with Salmonella.<\/p>\n

\nI’m not the only one obsessed by this topic. As a community service, one researcher rated<\/a> all the many vending machines in his building, which includes the Vendtastic Burger Machine, the Junk Food Machine and the Fridge of Destiny. <\/p>\n

\nI can only dream of such riches.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

When I look back on my research career, one thing that stands out over the years is a particular sensation deep within \u2013 a nagging, pressing imperative that preys on your innards. It’s so subtle that you can sense it … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":6,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-626","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/mindthegap\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/626","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/mindthegap\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/mindthegap\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/mindthegap\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/6"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/mindthegap\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=626"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/mindthegap\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/626\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/mindthegap\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=626"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/mindthegap\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=626"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/occamstypewriter.org\/mindthegap\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=626"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}