Happy new academic year to all of you!!! May this year be full of 50 hours days and even less holidays than the year before, bless referee number 3 for his great comments and so on and so on…
It’s hard to get back to work, I know, I know…. For this reason, here a chemistry version of “go the f*ck to sleep” (and the youtube version read by Samuel L Jackson). Enjoy, and feel free to print it and give it to whomever you want:
The birds sings loudly on the threes,
The sun is already high in the sky,
You are cozy and warm in your bed, my dear.
Please go the fuck to work.
The windows are dark in the microscopy room,
The pumps are down to one millibar,
I’ll buy you a coffee if you swear
You’ll go the fuck to work.
The reflux went off and the reaction is almost dry,
The oil bath is on and the solid in the flask is black by now,
I know you’re not on your way.
That’s bullshit. Stop lying. Wake up, my darling,
and get your ass in the lab.
The condenser crashed and the lab is flooded,
Safety inspector whistling while looking around,
It’s been thirty-eight minutes already.
Sweet Berzelius, what the fuck? Go to work.
All the undergrads are at the fumehoods,
The postdoc is head-banging the NMR
Hell no, you can’t stop to the supermarket
You know where you can go? The fuck to work
It’s noon already, people are eating lunch,
and the seminar is going to start soon,
The hot, crimson rage fills my heart, love,
For real: shut the fuck up and work.
The bench is full of dirty old test tubes,
wrapped in used gloves and stained TLCs,
How come you can do all this other great shit
But you can’t get the fuck here and work?
The reaction is stirring since months now,
And the glass stopper will never get out again.
No more questions, this interview’s over.
I’ve got two words for you, kid: fucking work.
The new order for you has arrived,
Five boxes of 10 kilos to organize,
Sure, fine, whatever, I’ll move them for you.
Who the fuck cares? You’re not gonna work.
Bleary and dazed I enter the lab
To find you in your labcoat
My finger crossed tight as i tip-top away
And pray that you’re fucking working.
You’re finally there, doing a column.
Phone ring in your pocket with a facebook message “beep!”
Oh shit, goddamn it, you’ve got to be kidding.
Go the fuck back to work!