If I hadn’t worked in a fruit fly genetics lab in college, I might still be a scientist today. Our lab studied how sperm compete inside the female fruit fly’s reproductive tract, which was cool, but the actual work was monotonous. I would get nosebleeds as I etherized the little buggers so they’d lie still. Then, squinting, we’d use a paintbrush to delicately sort them into groups of males and females based on the shade and shape of their tiny, tiny abdomens. From there, we sorted them by eye color—red, orange, or white. After a big experiment we’d have to do this for hours at a time. It was a headache, literally.