If I wanted to die, I couldn't have found a better way.

I'm working with fecal E. coli and three strong concentrated acids namely nitric, hydrochloric, and perchloric acids. Like I said... If I wanted to die, I couldn't have found a better way.

My rats haven't eaten in two days. I hope they're still alive and zinc-supplemented enough 'cause otherwise I'm dead, even dead-er than being exposed to hazardous acids. No one warned me it was gonna be like this though. But I'm alright. I'm not commenting any further.

So I'm blogging but got nothing to write about except senseless babbles. I just miss writing. I think it's been more than a month since I wrote something out of random creative juices. For EiC, it's sad that I've got a lot of notes and drafts that haven't been given attention yet. I still can't believe it's been seven years. Seven years. Of loss, realizations, awakenings, reconciliation, ideas and daydreams. Seven years of writing and drawing. It seems we're never going to get tired of it anyway.

So I guess I'm not dying soon. I'm wearing double masks, nitrile gloves, a lab gown and closed shoes; and working cautiously in a fume hood with a functioning exhaust. Just maybe if I survive this, after seven more years EiC might be a masterpiece.

Forgive me, I'm being overdramatic again. :)