Or at least not blog-worthy.
Sleep, work, dinner, sleep. That's pretty much a summary.
The culprit, it turns out, which was spoiling all my experiments, was bad BSA. Curses! At least it has to be, because it wasn't bad DNA, contaminated water, bad buffer, or bad enzyme. There are only so many variables in such things.
Or maybe God just doesn't like my experiments. That could be. I should pray for my PCR to work. Although I feel like if I prayed, I would want to pray for something a little bit less selfish and a little bit more important than my PCR working. I mean, I should be able to get that under control with a little bit of ingenuity and methodical work. God should be paying attention to bigger things, harder things, like stopping genocide or curing Alzheimer's. Or even making Kristy and Tamar's kids feel better. You know. The important stuff. If He's going to pay attention to a PCR, it had better be a PCR that could cure cancer or AIDS or something.
That was random.
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