If you look very clearly, you can see the cell wall. The nucleus
iseasier, of course, like a little sun in that mini-cosmos. But it's the wall that
defines the cell. The individual. And yet, you know, it's not very interesting.
The nucleus is where the action is. Where it all happens.
I was hurt, yes, when my paper was rejected. But I didn't dwell on it at
the time. The work itself was so involving. Prizes, tenure, all that - I suppose it
should have mattered more. But I was always able to do my research. Which I
haven't been lately. Not since the Prize. I seem to spend all my time talking to
people like you.
Oh no! Please don't take that the wrong way! I'm terribly tactless, I'm
afraid. Too many years spent out of the swim. Just me and my microscope,
most of the time. Not the best place to hone your social skills.
Marriage? People always ask that. If I were a man, would it seem so
strange to be married to my work? I suppose your paper will put it that way:
"Married to her work."
Funny when you think of it. When a cell needs company, it simply
divides in two. All it needs is itself. Maybe I've spent too much time with
something that doesn't need others of its own kind.
A lot of the people who've come seem to find me very alone. As if
Ilived locked in this claustrophobic space. But that's the thing about this work.
You forget about yourself.
That's the best part. You forget about yourself.
COPYRIGHT 1997, Jim Chevallier