The everyday

It's been a while since I wrote a post at the end of a work day. Sometimes the words just come. They sizzle in my head all day, then bubble to a boil until I let them vent through my fingertips. Sometimes I can almost hear the steam. 

We are exactly 16 days into the Year of our Lord 2026, and the days just keep on coming. Most of the time on this blog, I tell you about the highlights of my job - the publications, the discoveries, the thrills and surprises, the news coverage, the literal mountaintop experiences. I have an amazing life. But not every day is an epic adventure in ocean science. Most days, I just answer emails. 

Today was one of those days. I biked to work, sat at my desk, and weeded through the things that needed doing. Friends, if you'll indulge me, let's take a moment to pause and appreciate all the little things that constitute the process of science - not the big moments, but the everyday tasks. They are no less important, for sure. 

Pre-proposals: Recently, an opportunity for funding opened at a new federal agency I had never applied to before. The call seemed like a perfect fit for some of the research that my team at WHOI is doing, so I thought we should go for it. It took us a couple weeks and plenty of emails back and forth to hammer out the idea we wanted to pitch, then another few days for me to articulate our ideas on paper. I have no guarantee that the program officer will like what we submitted, but it can never hurt to try. 

Study suggestions: Sometimes, federal agencies don't know what they need to know. Program officers can turn to the academic community for advice, and that's exactly what happened last month. A federal agency that regulates seafloor habitats asked academics to compose "study suggestions" - ideas for research that would help them better fulfill their mission. I jumped on the opportunity to steer the priorities of a funding agency, and I organized my collaborators to write two different study suggestions. The program officers can now decide to issue a call for proposals based on the suggestions, or just disregard them - and I have no clue which it will be. In the best case, I might have just written my own call for proposals and set myself up to get funded in the future. In the worst case, I gave a federal agency information they didn't need. Flip a coin. 

Re-review: Last week, I was contacted by the program officer for one of my currently-funded projects. She informed me that the final year of our funding was held up until the project underwent a new round of review. The powers-that-be wanted to make sure my project still adhered to the shifting landscape of federal priorities in the US, so I had to submit additional documentation proving my case. It was a hassle but not overly time-consuming, thank goodness. 

Budgets: Every proposal requires a budget, and we are definitely in proposal season! I'm submitting two rather large ones in early February, and each one requires a budget. Budgets are where my lofty ideas meet the reality of scientific execution. Oh, you want to go diving in Palau? How much is that going to cost? Every single budget is annoying to write, but once I'm done, I have a much better plan than when I started. Budgeting always serves me well in the end. 

Dive plan: This is actually a fun one. I'm planning to conduct field work on the SS United States as soon as it sinks, so now is the time to get my plan together! Collecting samples from the ship will require technical diving, so my plan has to be approved before we get into the field. There have been emails back and forth, a couple phone calls, and 3 drafts of my plan. We're reaching a point of agreement, so I look forward to getting the approval soon! 

Most days are not high-adventure days, but it is these little everyday tasks that push science forward sometimes. I hope you can appreciate all the effort that goes into every study I undertake. It is my life's work.