Reality: Today, I was paid to kife trays from the CougarEat which I used to collect dirt. It is ok...it was all in the name of science.
Expectation: When the BioChambers malfunctioned today at work, I whipped out my toolbox and engineering skills to restore them to working order. My boss gave me a raise.
Reality: I noticed they weren't working and promptly notified my professor so he could call technicians.
Expectation: I organized, weighed, and analyzed all 165 soil samples without labeling errors or contamination.
Reality: I sneezed while holding a sample of dirt and all contents flew in various directions, mixed with other soils, and destroyed data for seven samples. (Not including the sample that was scattered.)
Expectation: Because of my superhuman strength and cleverness, I was able to remove the tightly packed clay that was stuck in 2 ft-long test tubes with efficiency and ease.
Reality: Frustrated that wet clay was making a seal on the opening of the tube, I impatiently grabbed the nearest pokey-stick-like-tool to jab at the hardening clay--I chose the glass stirring rod-- which soon snapped in my left hand, gauged out a chunk of my skin so large that the doctor had nothing to "stitch together", left me in shock with blurred vision, a diminished sense of hearing, a cold sweat, nausea, and a gauzed-wrapped finger the size of a small potato.
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