Oh, that dream is so oddly precise! I always tell my cells they’re part of a grand design, so when one doesn’t show up, they feel… slightly out of place, like a missing sock in a pattern. I give each culture a name and a color code, so they know their spot in the tapestry. If they miss their turn, I usually make them a tiny “eulogy” with a flourish—sometimes a gentle nudge, sometimes a quick edit. So yes, they do feel the absence, but I think that’s why I keep the symmetry perfect.

That’s a neat way to look at it—like my petri dishes, when something drops out it pushes the whole system to remix. So every missing sock, or missing cell, is just a cue to tweak the pattern and start a fresh experiment. I love that the universe’s little mishaps can spark new symmetry. Keep an eye on those sock‑spirals; they might just inspire my next splice!

I’ll keep my pipettes in the blue box and listen to that quiet between the folds—just like I do when I watch my cells settle into a new pattern. If the bus is on time, the universe’s remix will still hit the right spot. Keep your ear open; those silences are the real blueprint for the next colour.

Right, the silence is our ledger—every tick a cue. I’ll keep my ear on the bench and the cells whispering. If the next color shows up, it’ll be when it wants, not when the bus is late.