And I’m returned to the domesticated primate house for round two (of five), testing drugs for money. Today has been uneventful even by the standards of a drug study, in which event typically refers to, like, dinner. Which means i’m hungry, and also kinda bored. The place is a ghost town today, with just the dozen of us testing this particular arthritis medication, and a small group who leaves tomorrow, checked in.

Here’s a thing- I overheard a truly impressive conversation today between two of my fellow labrats, each discussing their careers. No, not as drug-takers. Apparently, Guy One has his own film production company, and Guy Two is a photographer. They spent about twenty minutes explaining themselves, and trying to one-up each other.

oh, i work in film, so i’m mostly in here to get some work done. i’m a producer. i just need my phone and my email, and i can work anywhere. it’s a very busy time.

really? that’s cool, says Guy Two, i’ve been doing a lot of shoots lately, you know, keeping busy.

does that pay well? Guy One asks, i’ve been thinking about doing some photo work…

it depends, you know. i do quite well for myself. the last shoot i did was for a lingerie advert, paid twenty thousand quid.

Guy One nods, looking… I don’t know how to explain how he was looking, really. Like someone who knew that Guy Two was lying, but who was also lying himself, and so could not call him on it and still be gentlemanly, I guess. Because what the fuck? If you’re getting paid £20,000 per photoshoot as a photographer, then what the hell are you doing testing fucked-up, unapproved drugs for money? If your film production company is so successful that you claim to be unable to put down the fucking Blackberry for even ten minutes, lest you miss something vital, you do not need to be testing drugs.

I’m going to tell these motherfuckers that I’m a race car driver. Or an astronaut. I mean, I know that part of British culture includes letting people believe that you’ve got more money than you do, but we are all in here on a very pretty day, taking drugs that can offer us no medical benefits whatsoever, solely because we need a big payday. Lie on the outside, dummies, and tell everyone that you’re taking meetings in France all summer long, Monday through Wednesday, to hammer out the details of your next big score. But in here? I can see exactly how successful you are.

I get that spin control becomes an almost pathological need when you want to be very, very successful at something and you’re obviously not there yet. Me, I fortunately picked a career that will not reward any success I achieve financially, so I have less to worry about. But children, come on. No one in here will judge you for not having very much money. We aren’t in here for our health. Just the opposite, in fact.