Mr Scientist – Chapter 1



  I have a job for you

The bedroom window was open as it was a very balmy night, it wasn’t open wide, just wide enough to let some air in. The first cat was a large male, I first noticed that he was sat on the window sill and barely had enough time to see a terrible rash all over his body before two more cats came in and all three ran quickly into my en-suite. I was still in shock from seeing the cats when a tall man entered the room, he was dressed in a black suit and claimed to be a Scientist. He had a large tank in his hand that appeared to be full of animals; I could see many balls of grey fur and right at the very front were two rabbits that looked identical to Bonnie and Lilly, two rabbits that had lived with me many years before. The grey balls of fur were chinchillas all that looked very much like my chinchilla Bruce, who sadly died six years ago.

“I have a job for you”. Mr Scientist explained, he then left the room and returned with two smaller tanks, one larger than the other, both also filled with animals; one tank appeared to be filled with insects and large spiders whilst the other seemed to be full of fancy mice and small birds.

“What is the job?” I asked.

“It is a research position”. He replied. He then handed me two envelopes. “Open these envelopes in 48 hours, no sooner, by which time you will have found suitable living quarters for all of these animals”.

“I’m sorry” I replied, “but I really don’t have space for all these animals”.

“Yes you do!” he shouted and went on to open a door that I have never seen before. “Look” he said, opening the door which revealed a huge room the size of a basketball court.

“Wow, I have never seen this room before”. I said, turning round to find that Mr Scientist had disappeared.

I thought back to the cats, typical, I had never had mice, chinchillas and rabbits in this room before and now that I did I had three strange cats, one with what looked like a contagious skin condition, hiding in my en-suite. I decided it would be best to move all three tanks into the large room and get a better idea of what I was dealing with. First I emptied the large tank – a decision I would immediately regret when I realised what was actually inside. As soon as I opened the tank a ferret wearing a muzzle jumped out of both the tank and muzzle and began to run around the room, quickly followed by at least twenty chinchillas and fifteen rabbits, all of which looked identical to either, Bruce, Bonnie or Lilly. I could not bear the thought of witnessing a ferret attack on such obvious prey, so decided to make a harness out of some braces I had in my room. When I realised exactly how big this tank was, I thought about the other two tanks, perhaps I could split up the animals in the other tanks between the three tanks. Mr Scientist had said that I must find suitable accommodation for all of these animals after all.

Looking closer at the smaller tanks I realised that the spider and insect tank housed only tarantulas and crickets, should I separate them? If I took the crickets out, what would I feed the tarantulas? I decided to leave them in. That left the tank containing the mice and birds, these must be separated. I chose to keep the mice in the small tank and move the birds into the larger tank until I could find something more suitable, this task was a lot easier than I thought, I just put the smaller tank into the larger tank, opened the door and all the birds flew into the large tank leaving me with a small tank filled with around fifteen fancy mice.

Now what about these three cats? Were they part of my task? Mr Scientist hadn’t left any contact details and seemed rather serious about me not opening the envelopes for at least 48 hours. What should I do? I went to see if the cats were still in the en-suite and indeed they were. As I opened the door the large male – who I will now call Scabby, began hissing at me, the smaller cats were both asleep on the floor. I slowly reached out to see if it was possible to calm Scabby down, but he let out a loud screech and scratched my arm. Fantastic, I guess this means that the cats want to live in my en-suite.

Now I had found somewhat suitable accommodation for all the animals, I decided it was time to make a wee shopping list. What did I need? My first thought was hay. I would cover parts of the basketball court in hay, loads of hay. What about the birds? Bird food was needed and definitely branches. The mice? Mouse food and wood again. The cats? Cat food and definitely something for Scabbys’ skin condition. There seemed to be more than enough crickets to keep the tarantulas going, thankfully.

I can’t drive so I am going to need to let someone in on my task, although for some reason I get the impression this isn’t such a good idea, at least not until the 48 hours are up and I know what the actual task is. My thoughts kept returning to Scabby, his skin condition looked awful, and if these cats were part of my task, did the en-suite count as suitable accommodation? I couldn’t think of anyone I could share this with. I guess I could just go to a big pet shop and get a taxi home.

I headed out to pets at home (I know, but needs must) as I knew I could get everything there, even branches. I will admit the whole basketball court full of animals excites me somewhat. I hope I get to keep the basketball court when this is all done. As I ticked everything off my list and headed towards the check-out, a sales girl approached me.

“Wow” she said. “That’s a lot of stuff”.

“Yeah” I replied, how observant. She wasn’t finished “What do you need all this for?” nosey.

“An animal sanctuary” more or less the truth I guess. I avoided eye contact as I really couldn’t be bothered with more questions this was my task and mine alone.

I got home, set everything up and released the birds from the large tank into the basketball court, and then remembered the wee ferret. I had left him tied up. I guess I was going to have to keep an eye on him. I picked him up and luckily he seemed rather tame, I named him Hamish and decided that he would be my new pal.

“Come on then, Hamish; let’s see what we can do for Scabby”.

“I will help you if you don’t make me wear that muzzle” Hamish said.

“You talk?” I did not believe it, but I guess all of this was rather strange.

“Yes, sometimes too much which is why I’m always wearing that muzzle”.

“I thought that was to stop you eating the animals”.

“I wouldn’t eat my friends”.

“Do you know what’s wrong with Scabby?”

“He has an attitude problem”.

I like this ferret. “No, I mean his skin?”

“It looks ok to me”.

“What?” I said looking round at Scabby, “Haven’t you seen the state of his f….”

I turned round to see Scabby, sat on my toilet cleaning himself, without any sign of a skin problem.

“But earlier, he was covered in scabs and he looked contagious”.

“He has many ways to keep people away”.

Ahh, this is all too weird. I am talking to a ferret. This was exhausting, I was now down to around 42 hours, but I guess I have done what was asked? Had I?

“Do you know anything about my task?” I asked Hamish.

“I assume you got the research position and not the lab technician role?”

“A lab technician role? What kind of lab?”

What have I got involved in?

“They have a few different types of labs, it’s all kept rather hush-hush as the public tend not to approve”.

“I don’t think I approve”. Where do you stand on all this?”

Hamish looked rather upset. “I am very much against it, but also rather grateful”.


“Yes, I am grateful that a failed experiment means I can talk. I will never be considered replaceable. A talking ferret is rather valuable to Science”.

“Wow. What about the rest of the animals?”

“I am the only talking subject left from my generation. Back then we were mainly used for testing painkillers, painkillers intended or human infant use.”

“Is that when you found you could talk?”

“That was during a study on pain and vocalisations, I am not sure how it happened exactly, and I just remember one day I found that I was able to think out loud. It’s just a shame that the rest of the animals cannot”.

“What tests do they do now?”

“It’s mainly cosmetics and household products. It’s much harder to justify than testing for the sake of children”.

I nodded in agreement, although I still could not believe I was having this conversation with a ferret.

“Do you know what happens to these animals at the end of my task?”

“They will go back to the lab”.

This was depressing. What had originally felt like a dream was now feeling like my worst nightmare, literally.

My head was racing. What kind of test was this? Could I get out of it? I got the impression it was best not to ask Hamish too many questions at the moment. Was my task to save these animals? Perhaps that’s what was meant by finding them suitable accommodation? Did I feel capable of giving these animals back to Mr Scientist knowing their fate? Especially considering that so many of them so closely resembled animals that I had loved in the past. I thought back to the lion-head rabbits and chinchillas in the basketball court. They were identical to Bonnie, Lilly, and Bruce. Was this a coincidence?

I decided it was best to look around for more clues. I left Hamish sleeping in my bed and went into the basketball court to have a look.

Read chapter 2 here Mr Scientist – Chapter 2

What are you good at?

2015-09-14 19.17.18 (2)
Me, hiding in a jumper I knitted


Writing my first blog post From wow to how? was very cathartic for me. I meant every word I said and I feel as if that post has set the tone for all my future blog posts. Self-worth is a very hard thing to quantify, isn’t it? It’s one thing to dish out advice to others, often using our own experiences as examples, yet, it’s another thing entirely actually putting these words into actions. Why? How many of us have sat with friends or loved ones listing all of their qualities in an attempt to boost their self-esteem? How many of us have had our self-esteem boosted by friends and loved ones? These exchanges feel good and they can work because much of the time we allow ourselves to be boosted by those we trust. Why can’t we do this for ourselves? Do we not trust ourselves? Do we not believe in ourselves?

Why is it so much easier to believe the negatives about ourselves rather than the positives? On any given day we are likely to receive more compliments than insults, but it’s the insults, the negatives that we are more likely to remember, more likely to dwell on. Why is this? We are taught from a young age that bragging and being arrogant is a negative thing, a flaw, if you will. However, it’s not as if there is an extremely thin line between putting ourselves down and being arrogant. There is a huge space between these two states, and, plenty of room for some self-belief; there is even room within that space to admit out loud that we believe in ourselves.

It seems that putting ourselves down has been fashionable for a very long time. Perhaps being self-deprecating is quite charming when done in a humorous way. However, I think it’s a real shame that we find it easier to put ourselves down rather than put ourselves out there. I’ve recently been writing a lot of cover letters and I find them so difficult to write, even though it’s not in person I find it so difficult to sell myself. If I were to write a critique of myself I feel it would be much easier and a great deal longer too.

I thought one thing that could be nice and positive for this blog post would be if we all post a sentence or two in the comments listing a few things we are good at. It can be anything, absolutely anything, as long as it is positive.

I’ll start….

My name is Lesley-Anne. I am good at talking, hiding, looking after animals, handling animals, studying animals, presenting Science shows, knitting, making candles and being a good friend.



A lovely wee pet



I’m man’s best friend, a lovely wee pet

The sweetest dog you will ever have met

I’m loyal to my owners, I’m shared and enslaved

Yet their affection for me goes beyond the depraved


I’m tame, I seem happy, they think it’s my choice

I make a great victim as I don’t have a voice

Too scared to run, I appear so content

The result of dark actions that require no consent


The place I call home is now filled with regret

For who could abuse such a lovely wee pet?



Getting things done


If I ever allow myself to really think about all the unfinished projects I have, I feel physically sick. The paper I never pushed to be published, the Etsy shop that could be better promoted, poems, short stories, blog posts, knitting, sewing projects that never get finished.  The list could go on and on. I do finish many things, most things, but the amount of uncompleted tasks is ridiculous.

What stops us from completing these tasks? Is it laziness? I wish it was, but that would be too simple. We all have to overcome laziness at some point, often daily, just to get out of bed, to leave the house, go to work, etc. It seems, in my case anyway that what stops me is that horrid little voice that tells me I’m not good enough, that I am destined to fail. It’s such a personal battle that it’s difficult to express and share with others that may be able to offer some words of encouragement. It’s a private and rather brutal battle that stops us from enjoying the present. How often are you dragged down by thinking about what you should/could be doing that you don’t even have time to think about where you are and what you are actually doing? You find yourself procrastinating instead of just getting it done.

I have always been a worrier, I’ve accepted that it’s part of who I am and I do love the fact that it sounds so much like warrior, when I say it anyway.  I think it’s important to care, but I am self-aware enough to know that I worry too much. I’m constantly working on it and I feel a strange sense of achievement if I get through a situation having worried less than usual. I really wish I was more laid-back. I’m one of these people who will leave things to the last-minute, which may suggest I am quite relaxed about it, when actually the reality is that I have spent so long worrying about a task that I have barely left myself time to get it done.

However, I did manage to get through many years of studying and very rarely submitted a paper late, suggesting that I respond well to deadlines. I try to give myself self-imposed deadlines, but they rarely work.  When it comes to an actual job, it gets done. I will work my arse off. But,  it’s often these things that I have to make myself do for me that I can’t finish, I can’t fully commit to. Why? I really don’t know.

I do know that I’d like to learn how to set myself stricter deadlines that I could take as seriously as those set in University. I would like to attack these projects with such vigour that I nail it and then have to move on to the next. I would like to just work on one or two projects at a time, be it a blog post, job application, story, scarf and that is what I am going to try to do. I am going to start tomorrow, just kidding, I’m going to start now. Who’s with me?

Does anyone have any tips on self-imposed deadlines? I’m hoping this blog could be good practice. What do you think?

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From wow to how?

Why do we accept less than we deserve in order to pursue our dreams? Many of us do it. We may work for free to gain more experience in our field. We may do unpaid internships. However, when it comes to paid work, why do we take less than we should? We do this because we feel lucky to have such an amazing job, right? However, is it really such an amazing job if we must sacrifice our rights and accept questionable pay in exchange for our work? It may be a zero hours contract, no contract, never-ending trial periods, unpaid working hours and even below minimum wage. Are we not belittling our own worth? Whilst setting a standard that means future employees can either work for the same, or be considered a pain to simply expect what they are legally entitled to.

These things are bad enough, but it gets worse. When you work for someone who has so little respect for their employees, it rarely stops there. Your boss can do what they want to you, they may say things that a real boss wouldn’t be permitted to say to you. You are leaving yourself open to discrimination, bullying and you can never trust that your work will be acknowledged or rewarded. By accepting less than you deserve, you are at the mercy of your boss. They know they have a hold over you. You have the most amazing job in the world, why would you ever leave? Why would you dare question the system? Often, by accepting these terms you become complicit in this illegal act. Your employer knows this. How do you think they sleep at night? It’s very difficult to work for someone you don’t trust and without a contract there is very little you can do about it. This will lead to resentment. It is not healthy and it will affect you and your work.You may feel constantly on edge, knowing that at any moment you could be replaced by someone willing to work for even less. This is when we must listen to our gut instinct.

It’s not always easy to trust your gut instinct when pursuing your dreams. Yet, this is perhaps when we should trust it the most. If your gut instinct is telling you it’s not right when it feels like it is the best opportunity in the world, listen to it, trust it. I’m not suggesting you should never go against your gut, there are times when we say we have a gut instinct about something, when it fact we just don’t want to do it. However, we seem to be pretty good at listening to our gut when it comes to our personal lives, so I think we should pay the same attention to our professional lives. Chances are if you have found yourself in this situation, you have finally found the most amazing job in the world; you have worked extremely hard for it. You may have studied for many years, volunteered hundreds of hours of your time for free to gain more experience in your field. You have probably supported yourself along the way working in many jobs just to pay the bills, believing this would all lead to you getting that amazing job you deserve. Keep going. You will find that job. However, if you are working for less than you know you truly deserve, listen to your gut, this is not that job.


Thank you for reading. I would love to hear from anyone that can relate to this post.

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