When I first started off in science, I didn’t think the word juggler could be used to describe my career choice. And yet, as I progressed through my PhD and postdocs, I find this word to be right on the money. From an outsider perspective, it might seem that my day to day would only consist of standing at a lab bench, pipette in hand, armed with safety goggles in a white lab coat – added bonus if a Bunsen burner flame is on in the background. But, this almost idealistic idea of what a scientist’s job is couldn’t be further from the truth. In this blog I want to address a struggle, which has reared its head, particularly keenly for me in the past months: the feeling of not doing enough. The feeling of not being able to accomplish all the different elements that an academic job entails.
Twitter is flooded by memes and statuses that joke about downloading paper after paper after paper that sit in a nicely labelled ‘to read’ folder, never to be clicked on again. And that is exactly it. It’s more than just performing experiments, and teaching. It’s having the time to read papers, attend seminars and conferences, analyse, critically evaluate, and think about what you are doing to generate new ideas. I often ask myself, how do I make time for the higher-level thinking, the grant writing if my head and energy is always focused on generating data? How do I get to that next level? I.e., be more idea-generating principal investigator (PI) and a wee bit less always-doing postdoc.
I have had conversations with a fellow lab mate about this feeling. They have described it to me as a constant revolving door – always spinning, always doing, never stopping. And I often wonder if many of us early career researchers (ECRs) feel the same, but it’s something we don’t really talk about or can name for that matter. We are all keenly aware of at least trying to maintain some-sort of a work-life balance, but what about our work-balance? Does it even exist or is our job purely reactionary? Moving from A to B to C. But if it does exist, can it be supported?
To begin to untangle this, I have gone back to my job description. According to what I have written on a PDF document, 80% of my time should be focused on planning, conducting, and analysing experimental studies. 10% is data write up, presentations at group meetings and conferences, maintaining up-to-date records of research progress and updating my PI. The rest is then broken down in four 2.5% ‘chunks’ which include (1) dissemination and publication of my own and the lab’s research, (2) prepare my own and contribute to the lab’s research proposals and applications, (3) update my skill base and (4) supervise students.
And now let’s stack this up against my work patterns. As a pre-clinical researcher, I know I will have intense month-long periods of surgery and welfare checks with little time for anything else – the usual daily email checking and replying churn about covers it. Here I would argue 99% of my time is spent planning and conducting research. If I have any write up or presentations to give, these are generally almost always done in evenings or at the weekend. These months will then give way to processing all the materials generated. Be it tissues that need cutting and staining or biological samples that need processing or be sent for sequencing. These periods are also heavy ‘in doing’. My very loose 9 to 5 is spent at the bench or on some sort of machine. Then, once the samples are processed the data analysis can begin. In these periods I am a bit more flexible and can generally attend local seminars or even venture forth to a conference and I also spend time supervising and teaching. Here I think the planning, conducting and analysing sits at 90% with the added 8.5% of data write up, attending meetings and 2.5% of teaching. And then the cycle repeats.
What I am not seeing in my work patters are the remaining three 2.5% – which ironically are what I need to take the leap from postdoc to PI. Or better yet, I do these ‘in my own time’ aka evenings and weekends – this weekend being a prime example, as I spent it writing a grant proposal.
So, what really is the take home here? It’s all well and good having a job description that almost arbitrarily breaks down your duties, but how do you actually implement them all and be satisfied that you are doing enough. I wish I could tell you that I have it all figured out, but I don’t, it’s a work in progress.
Firstly, I am openly talking about it with fellow ECRs. And – drum roll – many feel the same! Secondly, I am trying to break my solid work patterns, even if it’s just a slight tweak. For example, instead of cutting that extra brain on the cryostat I am choosing to stop and open that dreaded ‘to read’ papers folder and read one of those papers. Or jot down some grant ideas on a word document, so that when a funding call opens, I can be that wee bit more prepared. And recognising that scheduling back-to-back experiments for weeks on end leads to burnout. I know the pressures are there to collect data as quickly as possible but this can’t happen if you aren’t ok.
And lastly, I wonder if our institutions should more actively be promoting our personal and career development. As an ECR, I have a number of days within my contract that I can take for this purpose. Something that I only discovered four and a half years into working for my current university. I wonder if the precedent of taking these days for you – as opposed to not taking them – could really help ECRs become more rounded. Promoting the idea that it’s ok to take time to work on your career and update your skill sets.
That it’s ok to step away from the bench and stop to think.

Dr Gaia Brezzo
Author
Dr Gaia Brezzo is a Research Fellow based within the UK Dementia Research Institute at The University of Edinburgh. Gaia’s research focuses on understanding how immune alterations triggered by stroke shape chronic maladaptive neuroimmune responses that lead to post-stroke cognitive decline and vascular dementia. Raised in Italy, Gaia came to the UK to complete her undergraduate degree, and thankfully, stuck around. Gaia writes about her work and career challenges, when not biking her way up and down hills in Edinburgh.