Well, the truth is, you probably don't. Your eyes will glaze over when I discuss my current project. It's the normal reaction. If anyone ever didn't have their eyes roll to the back of their heads when I started to talk about tadpole dietetics, the mystery of omnivory, amphibian mating and reproductive styles- I'd check for a pulse and then call the coroner. My life is banal. I'm one of about ten people in the US that have a clue what in h3ll I'm talking about when I start blathering about Typha phenolic compounds and developmental effects. I know that. I'm OK with it. I'm not a people person, so not making any sense to others is my modus operandi.
But sometimes, someone does understand me. Once in a while, some one gets what on Earth I'm trying to say. They might even recognize some rellevance in it. And today, I felt like that was the case. First thing in the morning, before breakfast even, I was checking my email (because I'm OCD like that) and found out that my first publication is going to be cited in a new Ohio Amphibians book being edited by a colleague. I use the term colleague loosely here- we both work on frogs, we both are involved with the frog call survey, we have attended some of the same conferences, but we live on opposite ends of the state. He probably wouldn't even recognize me in a crowd. But he'll know my name. He'll know my work.
And then my mind does a tail spin. He'll know it's crap work. He'll see some flaw I didn't notice. He'll laugh at my ignorance in my chosen field. He'll point out to others how wrong I am in my conclusions. And thus- "Ugh..." Why can't my brain just accept the good once in a while? Why must my brain find the negatives, real or potential. I didn't used to be like this. I don't think.
Pictures will come in due time, I swear.