last day of graduate school

Today was my last day of work in the Schepartz lab, where I first rotated in September 2005 and began working full time in May 2006.  It was drizzling as I biked up Science Hill for the final time after making that trek nearly every workday for the past five years.  I arrived in time for group meeting at 9am, then at 11 o’clock I finally got to work cleaning out my bench and hood.  I had spent much of the workday yesterday clearing off my desk – deciding which papers to save, which to discard, and which stationary items to purloin – but today’s task turned out to be much longer.  Now, at about 8:45pm, I appear to finally be finished.  Dumping the old buffers and reagents was the easy part, but deciding which peptides to save and which to chuck proved to be a dilemma.  A worse dilemma yet, and one which I ultimately left for Seth (our safety tsar) when he gets back from his vacation, was how to dispose of the nasty chemicals I had purchased back during my first year in the lab when I was trying to synthesize hexafluoroleucine from scratch.  But other than that, all of my personal research materials are either passed along to a willing recipient or mushed in the overflowing trash can.  I also saved all of my data, presentations, protocols, and thesis to CDs for posterity; returned my Chemistry building keys to the main office; and left thank you notes for my committee members.  I am currently printing out my thesis so that I can get it hard-bound and give to Alanna as a gift along with an even more gracious thank you card.

I noticed something a couple days ago that was obvious but poignant nonetheless.  A prospective postdoc was visiting the lab, and during her talk it occurred to me that once I left, the lab would have turned over 100% since I joined.  Not a single researcher (grad student, postdoc, or tech) who was there when I started or who joined along with me remains.  Alanna and her secretary Michelle are the only holdovers.  It’s crazy how fast things change in academia.  It may not be readily noticeable because things seem stable and consistent when you settle into your daily routine, but then one day you look back and everything is different.