With an office like this, I see not why anyone would wish not to be an astrophysicist. What bigger love can there possibly be than the Universe? Isn’t every other love ‘scientifically’ a subset of the Universe? Or is the Universe a subset of love? Is there something greater than the two (which in no way validates or answers the previous two questions but might help to provide insight)?
Questions, questions. Being a scientist can sometimes be extremely ‘traumatic’, if I may use a word so harsh. It’s like having an endless fountain in your brain, spewing out questions that have nothing to do with anything and yet demand answers. It’s like having a book that keeps asking and if you answer, it proceeds further only to ask you yet another question (the Give Yourselves Goosebumps kinds). Most of these questions remain unanswered. It is in the nature of the set of questions to be infinite and yet not have a one-to-one relationship with the set of answers. The relation between the two sets, the one with all the questions and the other with all the answers, can never be a bijection. This is so easily proven by the following statement: the fact that most questions remain unanswered and a majority of the questions point towards YES or NO. It is, however, surjective. Or so I would convenience myself to believe. The day the function becomes one-to-one (and I use the word ‘function’ under the presumption that all questions have one and only one answer. If it has two answers, perhaps we should get to those questions and sort their answers out first) is the day the Sciences would face their end. Haven’t I, under the adoption of a very broad (and temporarily inaccurate) definition of accuracy, predicted ‘accurately’ the death of Science? Or have I asked another question that needs to be answered? Another two elements in the aforementioned infinite set and my brain cursing me for the additional trauma given to it. Mission accomplished.