VWXYNot?

The problem:
If a technology described as next-generation sequencing is being published in multiple papers per month, then surely it is no longer “next generation” but “current generation”.
What horrors will be spawned by future advances in sequencing technology?

• Next-next-generation sequencing?
• Yet-another-generation DNA sequencing?

• Sequencing: the wrath of Sanger?

The solution:
In order to avoid an intractably messy literature, how about assigning clearly defined generation numbers, as the cell phone industry have done?

My work has gone fire safety crazy recently. I’m one of the few people on my floor who’s usually at their desk rather than in the lab or off doing whatever it is that PIs do when they’re not in their offices, so I get to be a floor warden! Yay! Lucky me. We’ve had all kinds of videos and lectures and I’ve been given a lovely red hard hat, with an attractive orange vest on the way. It might be worth it though; there’s a rumour that our next training will resemble the standard method my PhD institute used in Glasgow, i.e. going out to the parking lot and setting fire to bins full of paper and big trays of petrol, and learning how to put them out.
We had a full building evacuation fire drill yesterday. It went remarkably smoothly; we got out and declared our floor “clear” to the head honcho within about three minutes. It helped that they’d given everyone lots of warning about a 10.30 fire drill, and that most people went for coffee at 10.25. (They missed out on the free candy the safety team handed out though, so who are the smart ones, eh?)
At the debriefing, we were told that the next drill will be unannounced (that’ll go down well with people doing tissue culture and animal work). Not only that, but they’ll enlist students as actors who will pretend to sprain an ankle on the stairs, or to pass out behind a filing cabinet or in another inaccessible location.
My first thought was that our next drill might resemble this classic clip from the US version of The Office:

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On Tuesday, I woke up feeling great. I had a spring in my step all day, I sang all the way into work, I was incredibly productive, I chatted with everyone, I sang all the way back home, and then I went for an unprecedented after-work run. I put this down to the effects of a relaxing long weekend followed by a day of sunshine and cherry blossoms.
On Wednesday, I woke up with a weird dry patch at the back of my throat that no amount of water, juice or tea could quench, but felt otherwise fine. Pretty damn good actually.
On Thursday (today), I woke up at 2am, unable to breathe through my nose, and with a killer sore throat and plugged up ears. I got back to sleep with the help of my old friend and saviour Vicks Vapour Rub, and will soon drag myself into work with the greatest of reluctance and a purse full of pills. (We have a full building evacuation fire drill this morning (I’m a floor warden) and another installment of the excellent course I’m taking this afternoon, so I really can’t stay home).
Wednesday and Thursday are not very interesting at all, just a common cold, I’ll be fine in a few days. It’s Tuesday that interests me.
It’s not the first time that I’ve felt just amazing the day before starting to come down with a cold. Just really really happy and energetic and productive. (I should have known on Tuesday that I’d be getting sick today, but I was in too good of a mood to acknowledge it).
I’ve mentioned this phenomenon to a few people, but no-one else seems to have experienced it. Google and PubMed have also let me down. I’m not an immunologist, but I’d put my money on an immune system ramp-up in response to an as-yet asymptomatic viral infection. Cytokines or something. Endorphins maybe.
Any ideas? And can someone please bring me a hot lemon with honey?

Testing the iPhone blogging thing