Lab notebook, unsent entry. I spend my days pulling black swallow-wort by the roots, hands raw, pretending it matters. Monarchs keep laying eggs on the wrong plant. I keep logging the numbers, watching them drop. I know exactly how many caterpillars won’t make it, and I still write it down like data can fix anything. Every meeting, someone asks if I’ve found a solution. I say we’re trying. I don’t say I dream about fields empty of orange wings. I don’t say I’m tired of fighting a weed that doesn’t care how hard I work. The worst part? I still care. I wish I didn’t. #Science #ScienceFatigue #FieldworkBlues