cubicle fridge

I’m typing with gloves on. In the mid-afternoon. In the middle of the office.
I am not wearing those spa/moisturizing/massaging gloves that make my hands and fingers beautiful.
I am wearing the gloves that are the same ones I wear when walking outside where the temperature is at the freezing point. That is, it is freezingly cold right now in my cubicle, at my desk, on my keyboard.
It is so cold that I cannot concentrate on the grant application forms and instructions.
(I cannot post entries on my blog now actually. The company blocks many websites from our access for security reasons. So I am typing in Word and will post it once I get home)

It is a fun process going through the instructions online. One page of instruction is full of 15 links to 15 plus pages of instructions. After clicking on three consequent links, I get totally lost where I was and what I was looking for. And the freezing temperature is not helping.

What’s wrong with the central AC? No one knows.
I find the answer “no one knows” very interesting. Unlike downstairs (where I am), upstairs is too warm to keep sleeves long. The two-floor research center is like the two-hemisphere earth, and the sun only warms one hemisphere at a time.
Because no one knows, I do not know whom I can complain to. Interestingly and importantly, life always finds its way. I wear gloves and scarf. Floor-mates place a heater at their feet. Just some minutes ago, I got a heater at my feet too. Once I cannot stand it anymore, I will simply call it a day and go home.

Why do they treat us like this? We are the assets of the company! We apply for grants so that the company can earn money. We do research so that we can publish papers so that we can apply for more grants so that the company can earn more money.
No one knows.
Everyone is in the competition of guess-who-is-tougher. You whine, you lose.
I don’t whine but appear in gloves and scarf. So everyone who walks by me will ask “Are you cold?” and I will answer “Yes.”

If you want to change the system, you have to get into the system.
But do I want to get into the system? I am thinking this question seriously these days.
The morale is pretty low now. We should go on strike like what the Writers Guild has been doing. Postdocs are a low-paid population with a great productivity because somehow we believe what we are doing something good for science and for future career.
Really? I believe we are doing something good for science and for knowledge passing on to next generations. But career? Anyone cares? They hire us because we are cheap. Because we don't fight back even in the situation where we are left to sit our warm butts in a freezing cubicle.

If all postdocs go on strike, what will happen to scientific research, to high education organizations, or to the future of mankind?
The answer is postdocs will not survive before anything profound happens. Before we can afford strike, I'll keep myself warm and keep my blood circulating.

Kristen walked by my cubicle and said "Oh, how nice! Your heater does not make loud noise. Mine is so loud that I couldn't concentrate on work."
Yeah, we are so enjoying the "guess-who-is-tougher" competition.