Kong Lab Civil War: The Beginning

I need to end the year on a more positive note and the story behind Kong Lab Civil War is the most fitting way to close out 2016. I will do so in hopefully three posts, which covers "The Beginning, "The Middle", and "The End" of the war of wits. 

First off, it is my pleasure to work alongside intelligent, insightful, and altogether interesting characters. Collectively, we are scientists who are committed to understanding the many ways that cancer cells adapt to metabolic stress. Individually, we are independent, strong-headed pieces of work. 

Hopefully, I will do the world justice in my accurate and impartial recant of the past two weeks, in which I describe how these personalities came to ally and oppose one another during the fading days of an already bleak year. 

So let's begin as these stories always do... with me.

...

Bright November days transitioned to waning December light in the blink of an eye. The hopeful mood that defined life prior to November 8th was bygone. For some, it would take days to grasp it again. For others, it would be weeks. During this dispirited period, friends and family figuratively cast their patronuses to prevent me from succumbing to the Dementor's kiss. Comedy in Pasadena, butterbeer at Universal Studios-Hollywood, Ramen in Little Tokyo, and so many other events filled my weekends. Books buoyed my thoughts at night. Science, in all its terrible beauty, pervaded my mind during the day. Sleep- precious noun and cherished verb- withdrew its blessings and exhaustion eventually found a home as semi-dark circles beneath my eyes. 

In this physically wearied state, I returned to the lab each day. On the afternoon of December 7th, I conversed with a colleague who pointed out the darkness that demarcated my visage. I agreed with her sensible remedy to go home and sleep, but we both knew that words were easier said than done. I returned to my desk and began to chat with my bay mate, Thai, to whom I described the earlier conversation. 

"Ying told me to go home. She basically said I looked like a raccoon because of my tired eyes."

"She's right. Those are really dark circles. Mike and I were right, your party life style is catching up to you." 

"Ha ha. You guys are always great to have around for a good laugh." 

While I defended my social calendar to a disbelieving graduate student, one bay away, another colleague overhead the description of my fatigued countenance. Mari relayed the amusing bits of that conversation to her neighbor, Min.

"Ying called Xazmin a raccoon because of the dark circles under her eyes."

"Why a raccoon? Why not a panda?"

"I'm not sure."

Eventually, the whispered rumors reached my ears. Retrospectively, my word choice was a major sign of intellectual fatigue. A well-rested Xazmin would have summarized the original conversation with Ying using descriptors that referenced my physical transformation into a Sith. But I was never one to succumb to animal name calling. I laughed at the confusion of words that went amok that day. Unfortunately, the day was far from over and my jaded mind craved sleep. 

As dusk set in, I prepared myself to depart the lab. I opened my desk drawer to grab my belongings. Thai, who was facing me asked, "Is that a new purse? Surprise momentarily replaced tiredness, as I responded, "Yes and no. I bought it a while ago, but I haven't brought it to the lab until now." With excitement in his voice, he asked Min to come to our bay and check out my purse. She sauntered over and he declared, "Isn't her purse something a hippie would wear?" 

Shock turned to vexation in nanoseconds. Prior conversations have revealed that we disagree on everything except four things. Hippies were a subject of dissenting opinion. Thai loves them and I simply don't share the love in return. Knowing, or perhaps forgetting, my impassioned stance on the topic, Thai announced for all five people in the lab to hear, "Xazmin owns a hippie purse."

Without missing a beat, I declared war. 

***

To be continued