So, this being my first post, I should probably introduce myself...
I'm Alice, I graduated from the University of Nottingham with a degree in zoology getting on for 2 years ago now. I spent the years prior to and during university building up a huge portfolio of work experience (everything from farms to a film production company to a tiger breeding centre), yet upon graduating, I was still pretty unsure of what I wanted to do.
My degree in Nottingham opened my eyes to conservation and evolutionary biology; I became completely fascinated by the way species had evolved and survived, the dynamics of ecosystems and, in particular, the how's and why's of sexual selection. My dissertation research project, which admittedly wasn't my first choice of topic, explored the evolutionary relationship of a species of snail. I developed lab skills that I thought were far above my academic capabilities, yet I successfully extracted and sequenced snail DNA and then built a molecular phylogeny of an almost entire genera. My results were pretty unexpected and suggested a reshuffle of the evolutionary tree. I was astounded at how much I learned in a short time, how much I came to love laboratory research, and again fascinated by the evolutionary biology of these tiny snails from a far away country.
Needless to say, my degree instilled in me a desire to carry out some kind of research in some incredible place; somewhere I could see things most have only seen in books, take some amazing photos (another hobby of mine) and contribute to the scientific community in some way or another.
All pretty vague...
As I graduated, I briefly dabbled in veterinary nursing and then found my way down to London to embark on a career in canine behaviour at a leading rescue centre. The charity sector is incredibly rewarding, emotionally exhausting and financially brutal. But I love it.
And so it's here, in London at the same rescue centre, that I find myself, living in a shoddy flatshare that steals a majority of my shoddy wages. I live with Jack, a guy with more money than sense, and a higher sex drive than money; Omar who thinks an argument should be as regimental as your morning cuppa and likes to wallow in the house at 35°C; and Maria, who I don't see often due to being deterred by the guys, but who is lovely.
Oh. And the rats. But I'll save that for another day...
In the two years I've lived and worked in London, I've changed a lot and made a reasonably successful attempt at growing up. I got promoted pretty quickly, boosting my confidence massively (bye bye shy/awkward/doorstep Alice) and making me realise this is something I'm bloody good at! I now spend my days training, rehabilitating and rehoming up to 22 dogs at a time. We can't save them all, but we transform the lives of the majority and try to have fun whilst were at it.
But...
... around 2 months ago a close friend of mine was diagnosed with breast cancer (prognosis is fab, yay!) and a friend from university had a bad accident resulting in a double leg amputation. It's a cliché and I'm embarrassed to say it, but it made me realise these things can and do happen to anyone. Seize the day, YOLO etc.
As such, I've decided to revive some old interests, embellish my CV and really take advantage of my degree and experience. I may be under qualified, but I'm certainly not under enthused.
So this is me. Me surviving in London. Me and my emotional roller coaster of a job. Me doing it, whatever 'it' may be.
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