Grinding my face off with a belt-sander.
Okay, okay, maybe not that bloody, but reading grant applications ranks right up there on my list of "decidedly unenjoyable past-times", just above "grinding body parts with belt-sanders" (but probably right below "depilating my head with a strigil").
But, when it's your lab's own grant application, and this charming grad-student truly loves his stipend, there is a certain heft added to the importance of actually slogging through the beast. No, no mid-read snoozes for me, I had to stay awake, and somehow, I pulled it off. My job was to find the typos and logical errors, and I did locate a few questionable statements, to boot.
However, there is a certain good feeling engendered by your boss looking up from your red-inked copy of the manuscript to say "I missed what? I can't believe that..." and she gives a hearty thanks at the end.
Y'see, reading the dern things is almost as painful as writing the blasted documents. That one's way up there on that list.
But, when it's your lab's own grant application, and this charming grad-student truly loves his stipend, there is a certain heft added to the importance of actually slogging through the beast. No, no mid-read snoozes for me, I had to stay awake, and somehow, I pulled it off. My job was to find the typos and logical errors, and I did locate a few questionable statements, to boot.
However, there is a certain good feeling engendered by your boss looking up from your red-inked copy of the manuscript to say "I missed what? I can't believe that..." and she gives a hearty thanks at the end.
Y'see, reading the dern things is almost as painful as writing the blasted documents. That one's way up there on that list.