I wouldn't exactly say it's a "calling", but it's good work if you can get it
Some notable stars of my friends list (though not nearly enough of you) have recently posted to let everyone know to what, in the most shallow sense, they've been up. Since I occasionally like to use this journal for its intended purpose — just to throw off my enemies, mind you — I shall now do the same.

To be sure, stuff still happens to me. I've still got schemes a-plenty, things I'm excited about, and there's still lots of grief and bitter, bitter rage to go around. But those things are news for another post. The tedious minutiae of my day-to-day existence — my own personal rat race — is this:

I have a piece of paper which authorizes me to think about biology in a semi-professional capacity. Half-way to being a real scientist, essentially. For having been allowed to earn this document, I owe some people a great deal of money. To keep the student loan mafia at bay, and to cover the comparatively small costs of living and being sometimes entertained, I get up in the morning, walk to a random coffee shop, position myself carefully so my laptop screen is facing a wall, and make web sites. Web sites where people can buy lovingly hand-crafted collars and matching cuffs with their sweetheart's name on them, or only the finest vibrators, nipple clamps, and floggers, literally by the dozen.

I always wanted to make the world a better place. I'd like to think, in some small, perverted way, I already am.