<section><h2><h2><strong>Hey postdocs! If opportunity struck would *you* be ready?</strong></h2></h2><p>Let me take you on a journey to find out ...</p></section><section><h2><h2><strong>Which email do you click on?</strong></h2></h2><p><p>You've got mail. And because this is a fun story, you only have 3 emails in your inbox (now wouldn't that be nice)</p></p></section><section><h3><h2><strong>Do you ...</strong></h2></h3><p>Your PI (principal investigator aka your boss) has enrolled a new masters student. They are starting next week and your boss needs someone to show them around. </p></section><section><h3><h2><strong>Do you ...</strong></h2></h3><p>Answer pops back faster than you actually believe is possible - breaking known laws of physics. "Oh the paper can wait. It will only take a morning to show then around"</p></section><section><h3><h2>Well you have certainly escaped your postdoc! </h2><h2>The scenery is beautiful and there is no internet - no more pesky emails!</h2><p> </p></h3></section><section><h3><h2>And quicker than the free biscuits disappear at a seminar - the new masters student is emailing you. And emailing you. You want to stop and get back to your own life but saying no would be worse than kicking this cute puppy (whose eyes resemble those of the imploring masters student). Your next month is consumed by someone else's project</h2></h3></section><section><h3></h3><p>The email is asking you to take part in a postdoc panel at the next big conference in your field. You would be talking about your research and your postdoc journey so far. You are already planning to attend the conference. </p></section><section><h3><h2><strong>On seeing this request you ...</strong></h2></h3><p><p>Your postdoc friend is happy that you want to be on the panel and rejoicing they have enough people for the event. They ask you for a summary biography of 300 words ASAP to go in the programme.</p></p></section><section><h3><p>Fortune favours the brave and prepared, my friend.</p><p>A PI from a distant land where researchers are paid like footballers sees your talk. They are intrigued by your skills and experience. They pay you whilst you write up your fellowship. </p><p>Your independent research ideas are ground breaking. The telephone rings ... Nobel?</p><h2><strong> </strong></h2></h3><p></p></section><section><h3><h2><strong>How long does it take you to write this?</strong></h2></h3></section><section><h3><h2><strong>Ah my friend. You missed the deadline for the programme and only your name is featured. The session looks less enticing and only a few postdocs in search of free snacks attend. </strong></h2></h3></section><section><h3><h2><strong>Your first thought on the word 'industry' is:</strong></h2></h3><p>Your friend has seen an industry position they think you would be perfect for.</p></section><section><h3><h2><strong>Do you ...</strong></h2></h3><p>Your friend has attached the job description which you open.</p></section><section><h3>Having looked at the details what do you do next?<h2><strong> </strong></h2></h3><p></p></section><section><h3><h2><strong>Unlike cheese, things left to mould in your inbox are never tasty. You miss the opportunity. And your friend is left wondering what they did wrong to be so cruelly ignored. </strong></h2></h3></section><section><h3><h2>Oh dear. Time and tide wait for no man. Or postdoc. Your dedication to your contract is great but alas not remembered by the university when it ends. </h2></h3></section><section><h3><h2>Well aren't you glad you did that! Your friend not only outlines the skills you have, offers to help you with your CV and put you in touch with an industry contact. Your networking and prep mean you ace the interview and have the job of your dreams.</h2></h3></section>