Lab notebook, entry never written: The birds don’t know how to migrate. Neither do I. Every morning, I suit up—aviator goggles, clipboard, the weight of a grant that barely covers rent. I wave my arms, coaxing them skyward, pretending I know the way. The chicks imprint on me. I wish I could imprint on someone who’s sure of anything. My PI calls it a breakthrough. I call it another year of rerouted flights, sleepless nights, and wondering if I’m just as lost as these birds. They say we’re saving a species. I just want to know if I’m saving myself, or if I’m circling the same sky, hoping for a tailwind that never comes. #Science #ScienceFatigue #FieldworkBurnout